The Holy Child
by KuroFan4235
Summary: A continuation of "To My Own Little Boy" where Ciel and Sebastian investigate the disappearances of children and Ciel decides to use himself as bait for the culprits!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a continuation of "To My Own Little Boy." This is what happens after Ciel receives that letter from the queen.

Chapter 1

Sebastian's POV:

As I stood by my master's side I idly wondered just how soaked a demon could get without drowning. Oh, we could not drown, but I felt that there was a first time for everything, especially when the circumstances one found oneself in were favorable to such an outcome. For the past week I'd spent a good portion of each day out in the rain, being rained on and getting soaked. If even I hated it, then my master must have absolutely loathed it, but he was so taken up with the case that there were times when I wondered if he even noticed it.

I doubted I'd seen the sun once in the week I'd been here. It was quite depressing after so much time under gray clouds and I found myself wishing for a change in the weather. Unfortunately, my weather sense told me that it would be raining and cloudy for at least another week.

Spending time out in the rain wasn't much better. My master and I prowled London in disguise as a dustman and his young nephew, looking for the missing children. A dustman did not carry an umbrella or a raincape or anything to fend off the onslaught from overhead. There were times when I was convinced I would have to start swimming through the streets, rather than walking.

Two hundred and eighty-five had gone missing and so far not a single clue had surfaced. We'd interviewed two hundred and eighty-five different families and we'd found no single link between them that could explain why those children had disappeared. I doubted very much that these disappearances were random, but we needed some sort of clue to help explain them.

"I can't believe this," my master said as he and I crouched in a doorway to get out of the rain. "With this many kidnappings there's bound to be some sort of clue, but we've come up with nothing! There _has_ to be something that we're not seeing!"

"I'm sure there is," I agreed. We'd asked several families to go over the day of their child's disappearance and there didn't seem to be…wait a moment. "Young master, I've just realized something. Each family had had a disagreement with the child or they'd punished the child just before the child disappeared."

My master considered this. "So the children were all punished and in foul moods? That's not too helpful, Sebastian."

"What if the punishment was the reason each child was taken?"

I could see him thinking about this. I could see him considering the theory and examining it from different angles. "It's possible, but why that would be a reason to take a child…it doesn't make much sense."

"What if someone viewed it as abuse and wanted to protect the child?" I suggested.

"If that's true, then it puts this case into a whole new light," he said, sounding excited. "That would give us a likely motive that matches the circumstances."

"Indeed, young master."

I could see him thinking about this. "Let's return to the townhouse, Sebastian. I want to get out of this rain and examine the case files again. It's possible that you may have found our clue. Well done."

"Thank you, my lord."

It wasn't long before we were back at the house. A hot bath and a hot meal later my master seemed to feel much more like himself and was busy looking over the case files. I was busy with the laundry and other such chores. Agni and Prince Soma had returned to the townhouse with us and so Agni and I had Prince Soma to watch after as well, which was task enough for any man. The prince had matured a great deal lately, that was true, but he was still…well, there had to be a word for it.

"The earl seems quite involved with this case," Agni commented while he helped me with the laundry.

"He dislikes children being kidnapped," I explained. "He takes it a touch personally, I think."

"With his history, that doesn't surprise me," Agni said, quickly folding some sheets. "How long do you think the investigation will last?"

"Hard to say," I admitted. "Once we were investigating for the better part of a summer before we even had a break in the case, and on another case we managed to break and solve the case within a day. It always varies."

"Do you think this will be a long case or a short case?"

"Long," I said. "This one has all the signs. He'll be exhausted at the end of it, but my master will manage. He always does."

I hoped that I would not be proved wrong later. True, my master was a top-notch investigator and had a first-rate mind, but in many ways he was still a child. A child could not always do what an adult could no matter how determined he was.

"It's a pity these kidnappers don't come to kidnap Lord Ciel," Agni joked. "Then, you'd be able to find who's responsible right away."

"That would certainly make it easier," I admitted. "But I don't think I could stand to have my master kidnapped just for the sake of the case. My nerves wouldn't take it." It was true, too. I would be a nervous wreck the entire time he was with those kidnappers.

"Your nerves wouldn't take what?"

"Now, young master, what are you doing in the laundry room?" I asked, somewhat surprised as my master entered the room. He never came into the laundry room and he rarely came to the servants' areas of the house.

"I've been looking so long at those wretched case files that my head's spinning with names and dates," he said, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows. "I find it surprising that your nerves wouldn't take something, Sebastian. What couldn't they take?"

"Sebastian and I were chatting about the case and I joked that you would be able to find the culprits faster if they tried to kidnap you, Lord Ciel," Agni told him. "Sebastian said that his nerves couldn't take it." Agni paused and looked at my master carefully. "Lord Ciel?"

My master was staring off into space and his head was tilted in what I thought of as his "thinking" pose. "That might work," he said quietly.

"Oh, I was only joking!" Agni said quickly. "Really!"

"We've been investigating a week and we've come up with only one possible clue to the motive, but we know nothing about who might have done it or where the children are now," he said. "We're running out of time. I think it's time to try something a little more drastic."

Why did I foresee a headache coming from this? "How about something not quite so drastic, young master?" I suggested.

"What plan would you suggest that could be more efficient?" he demanded. "Right now, it's the best chance we have."

For the first time, I wanted to murder Agni for planting such an idea in the young master's head. "Young master…"

"Find us some suitable clothes, Sebastian," he ordered. "Say, the dustman and his nephew again. Tomorrow morning we'll go to the East End, wander about a while, you can pretend to punish me and hopefully, the kidnappers will make their move."

I stared at him, ready to panic. He was completely serious. "Yes, my lord. I shall to see to it at once."

* * *

><p>We were back in the rain the next morning. My joy at such a wonderful and drizzly circumstance could not be contained. If my master felt the same way, then he did not say so. In fact, I think he concealed his enthusiasm for the weather quite well by grumbling about it.<p>

"I'm starting to think that the rain clouds just wait for when we have to go and investigate the East End," he said at last. "It certainly feels that way."

"I'm inclined to agree with you, young master," I said as a drizzle of rain made its way down the back of my neck. I shuddered. I was not fond of cold and the fact that I was dressed in worn and patched garments didn't help. I missed my fine wool coat and waistcoat.

"Not 'young master;' I'm 'Stephen' for this investigation and you are my Uncle Lewis who likes gin too much," he whispered. "Keep that in mind!"

"Yes, Stephen," I said immediately. "Your gin-soaked 'Uncle Lewis' shall remember."

I almost didn't catch the eye-roll. _Almost._ Seeing him do that was so cute that I almost smiled.

"All right, then," he said, straightening his patched coat and pulling his cap on his head. "Let's go be a dustman and his nephew."

A dustman's job is simple: he carts away domestic refuse. There were thousands of them all over the city and I doubted very much that anyone would notice one more. My master and I traveled the more prosperous neighborhoods of the East End but then we entered the rougher neighborhoods. All through the day, I was terse and short with my "nephew" on his orders, and more than once I pretended to smack him across the face for being too slow. He and I had practiced that move several times. It looked as if I put some power behind my hand but in reality he was turning with the blow so that my fingers merely brushed his face. A brush of my fingers was still enough to give him a light bruise, though, but I had to do it on his orders. (I promised myself that I would make up a witch hazel compress for him as soon as we returned to the townhouse.)

The day dragged on. We loaded up our cart with refuse and hauled it away only to load it up again. I snarled and growled at my young master and pretended to strike him and he pretended to placate and cringe. It was getting close to evening and so far, we'd seen and heard nothing.

"This isn't working," he whispered to me as he helped me load the cart. "We have to do something more."

"What would you suggest?" I asked.

His hand slipped and an earthenware jug fell to the cobbles and broke. A regular dustman would hope he could sell that for a few pennies and a regular dustman would be furious at its being broken.

"This is an order," my master said quietly. "Give me a black eye."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this. My master was ordering me to actually hurt him? I was supposed to protect him! However, an order had been given and my fist lashed out, striking him in the eye so hard that he fell.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry, Uncle L-lewis!" he stammered, putting a hand over his now-injured eye. "I didn't mean to!"

"Yer more trouble than yer worth, boy!" I growled, keeping in character. Other people nearby had been watching, but as soon as I glared around the area they pretended to look away. One man, however, had not looked up once. Interesting. I knelt down and began to pull my "nephew" to his feet. "I think we've got someone's attention," I whispered.

"If he's our man, then let him take me and follow close behind," he ordered.

"On yer feet!" I snapped. "Come on! This load and we're done!"

My master scrambled to his feet and hurried to obey me, and I allowed myself to reflect for a moment on how pleasant that state of affairs was. If only he could be so tractable all the time...Ah, well. One could always dream.

We finished loading the cart and pulled it away to the place set aside for refuse in that area of London. By the time we got there I could tell that the long day of unaccustomed labor was beginning to wear on my master. I just knew he was thinking of a hot bath, a cup of tea and a good meal by the fire. If we managed to solve this case then he could return to those creature comforts that much sooner and I could tell that he was already wishing the case solved.

I shook off my introspection and felt a smile start. Someone was following us as we made our way through all of the East End's back alleys. Perfect. "Someone's following us," I whispered.

"Good to know," my master whispered back as we reached the dumping area. "You have your orders."

"Yes, my lord." I sneaked a look at his face and gave an inward wince. His eye looked terrible. I wished he hadn't given me that order.

We were just finishing unloading the cart when I heard the scuff of a shoe on stone and something came out of the shadows at us. My master screamed in fright and even I was a bit startled. That man had moved almost as fast as a demon! A quick examination of his scent, however, told me that he was human. A kick to my chest sent me sprawling like the drunkard I was supposed to be and I saw the man scoop up my master and run off with him.

Sometimes, the master's plans worked a little too well. If it hadn't been for the mark of our contract that allowed me to always locate my master, I would have lost them. I followed them through deserted alleys until they stopped at the corner of a street. The man was holding my master firmly in his arms and he had a handkerchief pressed over my master's face. Even from this distance I could catch the scent of chloroform. I saw my master's body go limp just as a carriage pulled up.

"Another one?" the driver said quietly. "Hurry up and get in!"

"Thanks, Charlie!" the kidnapper said, settling my master in the coach. "I doubt this boy would have lived if I'd left him where he was! The man he was with was using him like a punching bag!"

It was gratifying to hear that my theory about the motive behind the kidnappings had been correct, but really, had we had to find out in so dramatic a fashion!

The kidnapper go into the coach and it rattled away. I followed it silently, relying on my demon speed to keep up with hit. It made its way out of London, through the suburbs, and into the country. By this point it was close to midnight. In the open country there were fewer places for me to hide, so it was a challenge to keep following the coach while staying out of sight. I was relieved when the coach pulled up to the gate of a large house and rolled through. This place had to be a base of theirs. I approached the wall and went to swing myself up and over the wall and...

In the next moment, I was laying on the grass by the wall, still on the outside and gasping in pain. I had hit...something...but I had no idea what it was, how I'd hit it, or what had happened. I hadn't been in so much pain since Marcellus had put me in thrall. Remnants of it were still tingling along my nerves, making my limbs and face twitch.

Eventually, the pain died down and I was able to get to my feet. I examined the wall, but I could see nothing, feel nothing, indeed, there was nothing. How extraordinary. Still, I'd ended up in agony on the ground when I tried to jump over the wall. Curious, I tried it again, certain that this time...

This time was even worse. I was in so much pain that I couldn't keep myself from groaning out loud, but I tried to hush it as soon as possible. My muscles had a life of their own, jerking and twitching, sending little echoes of pain up and down my body. It took longer to fade than the first time and by the time I made it to my feet I was exhausted and aching. What on earth was going on with this wall? Why couldn't I go over it?

I focused on the link I had with my master and I felt relief course through me. He was all right, not hurt or afraid, but asleep and dreaming. Since I had no idea just how much time had passed or how long I'd spent on the ground in pain, it was fully plausible that his kidnappers had settled him in bed for the night. I smiled and let the link fade just as a wave of weariness passed through me. Whatever I'd hit had exhausted me so much that I was finding it hard to stay on my feet. I needed to sleep, myself.

Using the last vestiges of my strength, I found a comfortable-looking tree, climbed it, settled on a wide branch, and leaned back against the trunk. Once I was settled, it wasn't long before I slept. I knew that as soon as I was awake I would have to locate my master and get him out of that place, but for now, I'd done what I could. I'd followed him to where the kidnappers had taken him and I would be nearby. With that thought in mind, I let myself rest and dream.

* * *

><p>Ciel's POV:<p>

I was pleased that the plan was working so well after I ordered Sebastian to give me that black eye. The man who rushed us and snatched me up was clearly someone highly-trained, so I did nothing to make him suspicious. I made myself remain in character the whole time he carried me and I fought like a mad cat when he pressed that chloroform-soaked handkerchief over my face. It took effect, though, and I was dizzy and disoriented through the whole carriage ride. I actually slept for a little bit, but I woke up when we pulled up to the gates of what looked like a large house. When I stirred my kidnapper put a hand on my shoulder and I jerked away.

"Easy now," he said as the carriage rolled through the gates and up the drive. "It's all right, youngster."

"Who are you?" I demanded. "Where's Uncle Lewis?"

"He's not here," the man said in a soothing tone. "You don't have to worry."

I stared at him. "Worry? About what?"

"About him hurting you anymore," the man explained.

The carriage stopped in front of the house and he helped me from it. (I put up a token protest, of course, but he pretty much pulled me from the carriage and onto the drive.) I stared up at a hodgepodge monstrosity of a house for a moment before the man pulled me up the stairs and inside. In the front hall an old, genial, white-haired man sat behind a desk, working on something by lamplight. He looked up as we came in and smiled.

"Hello, Jim!" he said brightly. "You've brought one, I see! Where's he from?"

"The East End," my kidnapper told him. "Lived with his uncle. Dustman. Man reeked of gin and thought nothing about giving this poor boy a black eye."

"He didn't mean to!" I protested. "Uncle Lewis is actually really nice! He took me in when my father died and..."

The old man got up from his seat and guided me to a chair by his desk. "Sit down, sit down, my lad. Why don't you tell us all about yourself, hmm?"

I knew how to tell a good story. I told them my name was Stephen Browne that my parents had lived in one of the lower middle-class areas of London. My father had been a teacher in a day school and my mother had been a governess. (Giving myself that kind of background would explain the way I spoke since I didn't sound as if I'd come from the East End.) My mother had died several years ago and my father had died last year. Uncle Lewis had come to the funeral and took me home with him since the bank had taken the house. I hadn't known, you see, that my father had had a few debts until his creditors came calling after his death.

"Ah, you poor boy," the old man said, patting my shoulder. "That's so sad! Well, you don't have to worry about that uncle of yours hitting you anymore. You're with us, now."

"I don't understand," I said woefully. Any other child might have cried at that point, but I had a strong feeling that I would have trouble doing that. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

"It's all right," the old man said, patting me. It took all my self-control not to jerk away. "Jim and I, we're part of a group called Sanctuary. It's part of our job to find children who are being abused and take them somewhere safe away from the people who are hurting them."

I paused and I thought about this. An East End boy would know of something similar..."Like the people from the parish? They came to talk to Uncle Lewis about me once, but he told them to leave." There was always a parish society who tried to watch after children and the elderly in each parish, so that would be something "Stephen" should know about.

"Something like that," Jim said.

"What about Uncle Lewis?"

"He won't find you here," the old man promised me.

I sniffed and my lip trembled. "But I want to go home!"

"Ah, poor lad," the old man said. "You'll come to feel that this place is home after a while and you won't be so scared anymore. I promise, no one will hurt you here or make you do things you don't want to do, and you'll always be clean and warm and well-fed. We promise you that."

"But...but..."

"Jim, this poor boy's practically asleep," the old man said, interrupting me. "He needs a bath, an exam, a hot meal and a warm bed. Would you like to see to that, or would you like me to?"

"I'll take care of it," Jim said, helping me to my feet. "Come on with me, Stephen."

I could remember from my captivity that I'd gone numb shortly after being taken, and that was easy to imitate. I pretended to be numb while Jim led me upstairs and into a well-appointed bathroom. Even though my skin was crawling due to a stranger touching me, I let him undress me and help me into the tub. All day long I'd sweated while I worked and dust and soot had stuck to me and dried, giving me a very filthy appearance. It was nice, after a day spent hauling trash, to get clean and relax in warm water. Jim helped me scrub top to toe with sage-scented soap and he even helped me wash my hair. Once I was clean he helped me out of the bath and dried me off with a soft, fluffy towel before dressing me in a long cotton nightshirt. I could tell that it had been laundered until it was soft and comfortable and I appreciated it after a day in rough clothes.

"There," Jim said. "Now for a visit to the doctor."

"Doctor?" I said, fighting off a wave of dizziness. That damned chloroform had given me one blazing headache and I was still dizzy from it and now it was past my usual time to retire. I wanted, more than anything else, to lay down in a soft bed.

"We have to make sure you're all right," Jim said, leading me out of the bathroom and down the hall. He ushered me into another room. It looked like a doctor's examination room, and before long the doctor arrived. They weighed me and measured my height, looked at my throat, my ears, my eyes, listened to my heart and lungs, poked and prodded my stomach, tested my reflexes and lifted my nightshirt to examine my spine.

"He looks to be in good shape aside from the bruises on his face and that black eye," the doctor said, wrapping me up in a robe and putting a pair of slippers on my feet. "Best not to let him get chilled, though, and he's a bit too thin for my liking. A few good meals out to make up for that in a few weeks. A witch hazel compress ought to get rid of that bruising and a cold compress on that eye will help ease any pain. I'll take care of both while you get him something to eat."

Jim led me down the kitchen, where there were still people working. Someone ladled a bowl full of beef stew for me and fetched me a few slices of bread. All day long my meals had been scanty and I fell to, more than happy to have such a hearty meal in front me. A boy who'd been living in the East End with a drunken uncle would have found good meals few and far between, so my behavior fit my persona. I was hungry enough for a second helping and some kind person brought me a cup of blueberry tea that had been sweetened with honey. I leaned back in my chair after swallowing the last of my tea, replete.

Dizziness struck again, my eyes closed and my muscles went limp. Damn! Something must have been in that tea to make me sleep!

"Easy, Stephen," I heard Jim say when I slid sideways in my chair. I felt him pick me up and carry me out of the kitchen and back upstairs. It took a few minutes before we reached our destination. It was slightly cool and quiet and I could smell clean linen.

"Jim?" someone-a boy-said sleepily. "Who's that?"

"His name's Stephen, and he'll be living here from now on," Jim answered quietly. "He's very tired, so let him sleep, all right?"

"All right," the boy said, and I heard him settle back down into his bed. A moment later I was tucked into my own bed...ah, someone had run a warming pan over the sheets...and I settled into soft and comfortable bliss. I fell into a doze and roused slightly when someone put a compress on my eye, but it wasn't long before sleep rose up, grasped me in its arms, and took me to oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey, guys, I'm glad you like this! Here's the second chapter and it's an extra-long one! Once I started writing I could stop! Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Sebastian's POV:

I woke up with the worst headache I could ever remember having, and for my long life, that was saying something. In fact, my pounding head was what had woken me, and as soon as I was properly awake I wished I could go back to sleep. That was not to be, however. My aching head prevented me from falling back into oblivion and I knew that trying to go back to sleep would only delay the inevitable rising and going about my business.

Whatever I had hit last night hadn't only hurt me, it had drained me of energy. This morning I felt weak and shaky and I knew that I would have to be very careful if I wished to avoid giving myself permanent injury due to my condition. I was in a precarious situation.

I wondered how my young master was faring. Thoughts of him drove me to abandon my perch and approach the wall again. I could see nor sense nothing about it that could prevent me from entering this place, yet I had been unable to do so. Why was that? I knew that the fiend Lucy had been able to put up a shield around Blackwell Manor, and I was able to put up unseen defenses around the Phantomhive estate, but I'd never seen something like this that incapacitated and weakened an enemy so completely. What was it? (Just as importantly, how could I erect the same thing around the Phantomhive estate? It would do a wonderful job of protecting my master!)

A wave of dizziness hit me and I had to sit down. I was still very weak and I felt worse than I had when I'd been ill as a human. I had never had anything affect me like this. Even when I'd been at my hungriest I had never felt like this. I was sure that unless I did something to rectify the situation I would be in trouble very shortly. I forced myself to my feet and, holding onto the wall, I looked about for some clue as to what had put me in this condition and what I could do to reverse it.

Once again, there was nothing. Nothing I could see, hear, smell, taste, feel, or sense in any way. For some reason, it...whatever it was...was beyond me, literally. My knees gave way and I fell to the ground. What could I do now? I barely had the strength to stand for more than a few moments, yet I had to find a way into this place and rescue my master.

I used all my senses to take in as much as I could about the place. To all appearances, it was a normal country house. Inside it, I could hear at least twenty adult hearts beating, and there were thirty children's hearts. One of them was my master's. The children were still asleep, including my master, but the adults were starting to rise and face the day. One hardy soul was already in the kitchen stirring the fire, and I could tell that the time was early even for the most industrious cook or kitchen worker. Already I could smell something on the fire...oat porridge. If that was for the children's breakfast they would have a hard time getting my master to eat that. He liked more elaborate things for his breakfast, like cinnamon rolls, sweet scones, and culinary creations that I would make. The only times he ate something so simple for breakfast was when he was ill and rich food would have been difficult for his stomach to take.

I could hear more adults moving about, speaking to each other and going about the morning chores. I could hear the sound of a broom rasping over the floorboards and the creak of those floorboards as someone moved down the hall, approaching where my master slept. Oh, if that poor fool woke my master this early then he would have all the wrath of a thirteen-year-old boy to deal with. My master was rarely a cheerful riser, and the earlier it was, the fouler his mood. A good morning was when he was still too sleepy to be grouchy. When he was still half-asleep he was absolutely a pleasure to be around since he was quiet, mostly docile, and amenable to almost any suggestions I made. Those were good mornings, but they were short-lived since he woke up once he had his tea. If these people did not give my master tea, then they would deserve whatever he dished out to them.

Listening for the next few minutes told me little else. There were adults and children in the house, the adults were awake, the children were asleep. It was about half-past six and the surrounding area was quiet aside from the sounds (and smells) of the farm animals the next hill over. The rattle of a cart drew my attention and I felt a smile start when I saw one coming up the road toward the house. It was fully possible that I was unable to go over the wall...the solution to my problem might be as simple as just going through the gate. The wall might be warded against people sneaking over them, so it might be possible that I could enter this place through the gate. Then again, it was just as possible that the whole place was covered with wards and safeguards against demons and it would be impossible for me to get in, but I had to try. I had my orders; I had to rescue my master.

I waited until the cart pulled up to the gate, and quickly I scrambled aboard with not even a whisper of sound. The man driving it didn't notice me and I watched as someone came from the house to open the gate.

"Morning, Ernest," the man opening the gate said.

"Morning, Mr. Camden," the driver said. "How are all your little ones?"

"They're just fine," Mr. Camden said. "Things are nice and peaceful now since they're still sleeping, but I expect that'll change as soon as they're up."

"Aye, it'll be Katie-bar-the-door as soon as they get their feet under 'em."

The men shared a laugh as the cart rolled through the entrance and I was elated when I realized that I was not in pain! It looked as if the gate had been the answer after all. Satisfied, I kept to my hiding place between a bundle of cloth and a stack of boxed candles and continued the ride up the drive to the back of the house. Before the man left his seat I was out of the cart and rounding the corner and out of sight.

The link I had with my master led me along the house and to a window on the second floor. I smiled as I caught his scent. A human's scent was not constant. It changed if he was tired, ill, hungry, well-fed, hurt, upset, awake, or asleep. Right now I could tell that he'd been given a good meal the night before, was presently asleep, and that...I found myself grinding my teeth. He'd also been drugged. When I found the person responsible for that, they would be begging for death by the time I finished with them. How dare they do such a thing? My master loathed such things due to his captivity, and when he loathed something he became impossible to deal with. Did these people have _no_ consideration for the butler?

Handholds and toeholds invisible to human eyes and incapable of supporting humans became clear to my eyes and my hands and feet found them easily as I made my way up the side of the building. In short order I reached the window and I could even see my master lying in a bed, still deeply asleep. Trusting my weight to my feet, I reached for the window and began to lift it...

The pain shot through me and sent me flying. The pain of impacting the ground was nearly nothing to the comparison of the pain I was already in. My body writhed on the grass, my hands locked into claws, my face fixed in a rictus of agony. Suddenly, the muscles in my body tightened, my back arched until all of my weight was resting on my shoulders and feet, and I realized the sound I was hearing was my own scream. Shortly I became aware of several adults approaching, but blessed oblivion approached and ended my agony. I had no idea if I was dying or if I was only losing consciousness, but for the first time, I welcomed such a dark abyss.

* * *

><p>Ciel's POV:<p>

"What was that?"

"I don't know."

Rustling. The sound of bare feet on floorboards. "It looks like someone's lying out on the lawn. Maybe he's hurt and that's why he screamed?"

"Well, he sure didn't scream because he's happy."

"Looks like he'll be all right. He's got help out there." The sound of the same feet moving back to where they'd started. More rustling and a sigh. "Do you think breakfast will be late?"

"Probably not. You don't see Mrs. Partridge out there, do you? Ten to one she's still in the kitchen."

"She's probably making soup by now for that man out there."

"She's always making soup."

Where on earth was I? Why was I hearing stangers' voices in my room? Wait a moment, was I even in my room? Somehow I found the strength to roll onto my side and I could tell from the feel of the bed that I was not at the manor or in my bed at the London house. If that was so, then where was I? Who were the people around me and where on earth was Sebastian?

A knock on the door, the sound of it opening, and the sound of someone coming in. "Morning, boys."

"Morning, Jim!" they chorused. Then, "Who was that man outside?"

"We're not sure yet," Jim admitted. I recognized his voice and I realized that he was my kidnapper from the night before...the one who'd chloroformed and drugged me. That was right, Sebastian and I were conducting an underground investigation...Why on earth hadn't he gotten me out of here yet? What was he playing at?

"Will he be all right?"

"I think so, once he rests," Jim said. "Now, it's time for you lot to get up. It's just past seven."

I could hear feet hitting the floor and the sound of the man's shoes approaching my bed. A hand reached out and shook my shoulder and in reflex I jerked away from it.

"Stephen? It's time to get up."

My eyelids creaked open and I found myself staring at the man who'd snatched me.

He smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

I winced as my head pounded. "Headache. Where...?" I sat up and looked around. At this point, I could not break character. It would cause trouble for the investigation if he became suspicious. "Where am I?"

"You're here at Sanctuary," Jim said. "You're safe here."

"Where's Uncle Lewis?"

"He's not here."

I knew that to be false. Sebastian was here, they just hadn't seen him yet.

"Are you hungry?" Jim asked. "It's almost time for breakfast." He turned and looked at the boy whose bed had been next to mine. "Jasper, will you help him get ready?"

"Sure, Jim." Jasper smiled at me and draped a towel over his shoulders while Jim left, apparently to go to another room to wake innocent sleepers up.

For the first time, I was getting a good look at the room. White-painted walls, bare floorboards with braided rugs and a runner down the center of the room, three iron bedsteads on either side, wide, sunny windows, bureaus, a bookshelf, a plain wooden box, and a table and chairs in the corner.

"Jim brought you in while you were already asleep, so I guess I'll give you something of a tour while we get ready and then we'll go down to breakfast," Jasper said with a grin. "Your name's Stephen, isn't it? Grab your towel and flannel and I'll show you the bathroom."

I wasn't ready to go anywhere without a few more answers. I was glad that I'd recognized someone: Jasper Willis, aged twelve and a half, missing from one of the lower middle-class areas from London. His father was a clerk in an office. "Where are we?"

"Sanctuary."

Wonderful. That question wasn't getting me anywhere. "I mean, how far outside London?"

Jasper considered this. "Hah, I don't know! Does it matter? C'mon! Time's a-wastin'!"

I let Jasper rush me out of bed and down the hall into the bathroom. Other boys were there, using the commodes in their stalls or washing up at the washbasins. I took care of the needful, washed my hands and face, and I was very glad to see a toothbrush sitting in a clay mug with my name on it. My mouth felt furry after all that time asleep and the medicine they'd given me. Once I'd washed and brushed I felt much more human. Jasper hurried me back to the bedroom and pointed out two drawers in the bureau closest to our beds.

"These drawers are yours and they hold your stuff. It's your job to keep 'em neat, and if they're messy, the adults'll make you fix 'em till they're neat, understand?"

I nodded. When I didn't move fast enough to please him, Jasper yanked the drawers open and pulled out clothing identical to the other boys' for me to put on. I did NOT want to get dressed in a room full of strangers, but practically all of them were between me and the door out. If I tried to leave to go dress in the bathroom they would ask me why and I wasn't about to talk about it. Instead, I kept my back to the wall and dressed as fast as I could. (I was deeply thankful that I'd learned to dress myself quickly while I'd been Sir Charles' prisoner.) "Finished!" I said, feeling as if I'd just won a race. I headed toward the door but was stopped by a hand on my arm.

"Hang on, you have to make your bed and hang up your towel and flannel."

Sebastian usually made my bed for me, and before Sebastian, one of the housemaids had taken care of it. I'd seen it done countless times, so how hard could it be? I pulled the sheets straight, plumped the two pillows, pulled the comforter over the matress, and fought to get it straight and flat. The towel and flannel I draped over the end of the bedstead like I saw the other boys doing. By the time I finished my arms were tired. How did servants _do_ this every day?

"Good job," Jasper told me, standing by the door. "Come on and let's get some breakfast."

He led me along the hall, down the stairs, and through the house, every now and then pointing out rooms. He pointed out the library, some classrooms, and a rainy-day nursery, but he wouldn't allow me to look into any of them. Instead, he hurried me along and in a few minutes we came to a large room that seemed to be a dining room. I was used to snowy-white tablecloths, comfortable chairs, spotless silver, and perfect china. Instead, there were plain crockery dishes, knicked and spotted plated silverware, and linoleum-covered tables and benches. Such items were easy to clean, yes, but they were terribly depressing to look at.

Jasper seemed born to hurry his way through life. He bullied me into a place at a nearby table and shifted his weight impatiently from foot to foot while the adults filed in with the serving dishes to put them on the tables. I could smell sausage somewhere in the air and my mouth watered. It seemed an age since last night's stew.

Jim appeared and stood at the head of our table while other adults took their places. By the time everyone had claimed a place it was quiet, and a woman stood up, said a short grace, and we were allowed to sit. A platter of sausages were just across from me and I was about to ask for them to be passed when Jim reached over and placed a small bowl of oatmeal on the plate in front of me.

"What's this?" I asked. I didn't want oatmeal; that was what Sebastian made for me when I was sick! What I wanted was sausage, some eggs, and perhaps some toast with butter and...

"Doctor's orders, Stephen," Jim said lightly. "He says that hot oats will give you a bit more strength and put some weight on you."

I was slim, yes, but I wasn't sickly! With the way Jim was talking, an outsider might think that I was in danger of collapsing from starvation!

"Try some honey and milk on it," Jasper suggested, pushing two small creamers toward me. "That'll make it taste good."

"Can't I have some sausage instead?" I asked. "I don't feel like eating oatmeal. I've had it a lot lately." As an East End child, my meals would have been very simple, things like oatmeal and bread. That gave me a perfect excuse for hating it.

"The doctor insists," Jim said, sounding apologetic. "It's just a small bowl. Hurry and eat that up and then you can have some sausage."

"I don't want it," I insisted.

Jim gave me a long look. "You'll get nothing else until you finish that, Stephen."

"I thought you wanted me to eat," I said, remember the doctor's comments about my slight frame.

"You have to eat what you need to eat first and then you can have what you want," Jim stated. "Go ahead, now."

I glared at the oatmeal. If it had been one of the Phantomhive servants he or she would have cringed away from such a look, but the oatmeal didn't go anywhere. I drizzled honey on it, added a splash of milk, and braved the bowl. Ten mouthfuls of oatmeal later it was gone.

"Well done," Jim said, giving Jasper a nod to pass me the sausage. "It won't be so hard tomorrow, you'll see."

I did not intend to be here tomorrow. I would be lucky if I kept my temper for today. Where the devil was Sebastian, anyway? He should have been getting me out of here by this point. He should have retrieved me last night and we should have brought in Scotland Yard. This should have been over by now and I should have been back at my nice, comfortable manor having a breakfast that did not include oatmeal!

I was more than happy after that to dig into a few sausage links, some eggs, and piece of toast. Unfortunately, because of that wretched oatmeal, I wasn't able to finish my meal and I ended breakfast by sipping carefully at a cup of tea. I was sure that the last tea I'd had had been drugged and I was being very cautious while I was still stuck in this place.

"After breakfast the doctor would like to see you again, Stephen," Jim said as other diners began to put their plates aside.

"But he saw me last night," I said, making myself sound confused.

"He'd like to examine you again."

"Why?"

Jim smiled at the oldest of children's questions. "He didn't tell me. He just asked to see you again."

Once the meal was finished Jim led me back to the doctor's office.

"Hello, Stephen," he said. "Do you remember me from last night?"

I nodded. "Yes. You're the doctor."

"Very good," he said, motioning me to sit on the exam table. "I'm Dr. Evans. Now, I'd like to take another look at you in the daylight, all right? Would you take off your shirt for me, please?"

I knew what he wanted to look at. I fought down a shudder and pulled off my shirt, praying that he wouldn't actually touch me too much. I always got nervous when it came to the brand on my back; Sebastian was the only one whose touch there didn't bother me.

"Stephen, how did you get this?" Dr. Evans asked after a moment.

"Some men did it when I was younger," I said. "I'd gotten lost and a gentleman said he'd help me find my way home, but he took me somewhere else..."

"So they did this and let you go?" he wanted to know, sounding extremely doubtful.

"No, they weren't letting me go, but a friend of the family found me, got me away from them, and took me home." In essence, that was the truth, and the more truth I gave them, the better. Sebastian was butler to the Phantomhive family, he'd found me, gotten me away from my tormentors, and took me home. It was as much truth as I could give them in the circumstances.

"Didn't your parents speak to the police about it?" Jim asked.

"There was an inspector at the house when I got home," I confessed. An inspector had been there...a building inspector to look at what had been left of the house after the fire.

"And your eye?" Dr. Evans asked, reaching for my eyepatch.

I pulled away from him. "An accident when I was younger. I keep it covered since it makes other people uncomfortable."

Dr. Evans and Jim exchanged a look of concern. "An accident? Your Uncle Lewis didn't have anything to do with that, did he?"

How to answer that? My contract with Sebastian was the cause of the change in my eye, but... "To be honest, I don't really remember what happened. It happened fast."

"What did your mother or father say?"

I thought quickly. "Father said that I was outside playing and that I fell and I hit something. He didn't see it happen, but he heard me screaming and so took me to the hospital."

Dr. Evans nodded and opened a folder. Inside I could see my alias of "Stephen Brown." It didn't matter that they'd spelled the last name wrong. Dr. Evans wrote my answers down on a sheet attached to a paper titled "Medical History."

"All right. Is there anything else you can tell me about yourself, Stephen?" Dr. Evans asked, looking over my file. "Any illnesses you've had, any problems that crop up now and then?"

"I had chicken pox when I was younger, as well as the mumps."

"No measles?"

"No measles."

"Did you ever have scarlet fever?"

"No."

"Good. How about allergies or anything similar?"

"Cats make me sneeze. Is asthma an allergy or is it something different?" They might need to know that I had asthma while I was stuck here. If I had an attack I could get very sick in a very, very short time and the wrong treatment could make me even worse.

"You have asthma?" Jim asked.

I nodded. "My mother had it, too. She had to rest a lot, and the doctor told me that I had it, too, when I began to have trouble breathing sometimes."

I had Dr. Evans' full attention. "Have you ever coughed a lot after an allergy attack?"

I remembered my allergy attack after going undercover at the circus and nodded. "When I was younger I did that, but it stopped for a few years. Then, this past winter, it happened again."

Dr. Evans nodded and jotted away. "I see. Well, aside from that mark on your back and your eyes, you seem to be in good shape. How's your black eye feeling? Any pain?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't really hurt. Did you give me some medicine while I was asleep?"

"A witch hazel compress," Dr. Evans said. "The bruising and swelling's gone down a lot and in a few days your eye will be as right as rain. If it hurts, though, let me know."

I nodded again.

"Any other troubles you'd like to talk about?" Dr. Evans asked. "Anything worrying you? Worry can be just as destructive to your health as any disease, so if there's something troubling you, you should tell us so we can help you."

I pulled my shirt back on and buttoned it before tucking it in and I thought about his question. Something was worrying me, and it should have been worrying Stephen Browne, too. "Why was I brought here? I...I don't understand why I've been brought here. When am I going home? Will you keep me for a while and then let me go home or...?" I sat down on a chair and sighed, pretending to be feeling tearful. That always made adults talk. In fact, if a child actually started crying they would blather like idiots until the crying stopped.

"We brought you here in order to keep your uncle from hurting you anymore," Dr. Evans said. "We have agents everywhere, looking for children who've been treated unkindly. When we find them, they're brought here or to one of our other houses and we protect them. Do you understand?"

I sniffled and nodded and Jim handed me a clean handkerchief. I buried my face in it and took a deep breath, trying to make them think that I was struggling to control myself. What they'd told me gave me a feeling that this was going to be a long, hard case. If they had agents everywhere and multiple bases, then it would take a great deal of time to find them all and stop them. "When am I going home?" I asked.

"You'll be with us until you're grown up," Dr. Evans told me. "You won't be able to live with your uncle anymore, so you'll live here."

"But what about Uncle Lewis? Who will make sure he eats and..."

"Don't worry about your uncle," Jim told me firmly. "You're not responsible for him, Stephen. It's not your job to take care of him. You're still a child and it's the job of adults to take care of you. After a while you'll get used to being here and you'll be happier."

I sniffled again. "I want to go home!"

"It will take a while before you feel at home here, Stephen," Jim said. "Why don't I take you around the house so you know where everything is? After that you'll be able to spend a little time getting used to being here, all right?"

I shook my head. "I know Uncle Lewis is supposed to take care of me, but he's still learning how. I miss him and I want to go home!" It was true, too. I missed Sebastian and I wanted to get out of this place and back to the Phantomhive manor.

The doctor pulled his chair next to mine and lifted my chin with his hand so I would look him directly in the eye. "Stephen, we understand that you're upset. A lot has changed in your life in a very short time, and that's bound to be upsetting. However, we cannot in good conscience return you to your uncle. What if he were to be drunk someday and hurt you badly without meaning to? We can prevent such a thing from happening if we keep you here. I promise that soon you'll feel more at home and you won't be so unhappy. Until then, trust us to take care of you, all right?"

I sniffed again and nodded. Any other child would have calmed by this point and given in to the adults around him, so that was what I did. Some mild rebellion would be expected on my part later, perhaps an attempt or two to run away, but that was for later. A normal child would need some time to rally himself to such an action, so I would have to be patient until then. The doctor repeated his assurances and I bade him goodbye shortly after that to go on my promised tour with Jim.

The house had at one time been a country estate; I could tell that much from the way it had been constructed and laid out. Jim led me through the corridors and let me look into rooms and I found myself thinking of them the way they would have been referred to if gentry had still inhabited it. There was the morning room, the parlor, the drawing room, the study, the library, the music room, the ladies' sitting room, the conservatory...Now, there were offices and record rooms and classrooms and a battered sitting room and rainy-day nursery. I did enjoy wandering in the library for a little bit. It appeared the gentry had left their books behind and there were quite a few decent works on the shelves. If I had the chance, I would come back later for something to read so the time would pass more quickly until Sebastian got me out of here.

"You're probably wondering what will be expected of you while you're here," Jim said as he led me along one of the upstairs hallways. "Well, it's simple. You'll be expected to keep your things tidy and to get along with the other children. You'll attend lessons and you'll have playtime and you'll have a little chore to do each day, something that's entirely your responsibility."

"Like what?" I asked. If they set me to cleaning the commodes, there would be a reckoning...

"Things like sweeping the halls or the stairs, washing windows, weeding the garden, helping in the kitchen and other little tasks like that. Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper, will be giving you your assignment later today."

Servants' work. Oh, this situation was getting worse all the time. "I don't really know how to do anything like that," I protested. "I'd make a mess of it."

"Well, we'll find you something you can do," Jim told me. "Now, the other children are at lessons right now, so let's get you to the classrooms."

I had never been in a proper school in my life. I'd always been taught by either my parents or by governesses or by Sebastian. (By far, the governesses were easier teachers than Sebastian. He was a demon and he didn't always understand that sometimes humans needed a break from schoolwork. His educational method was to plow through and pull me along with him.) Since I'd always been taught at home, I'd never even been in a real classroom. Jim led me into a room filled with children seated at desks arranged in rows. Boys and girls were separated by the center aisle, and all of them were busy reading books, practicing penmanship, doing sums, and other such tasks. One boy was examining an atlas with such intense concentration that I doubted he would look up for a brass band and a girl was seated at an easel, sketching a landscape. An upright piano stood in the corner and a shelf of books stood next to it. All of the students were around my age and I had to confess that I felt a pang of envy. Aside from the occasional lesson I shared with Elizabeth, I'd never had classmates I could share lessons with.

A lady wearing a black dress and with her hair pulled up severely in a bun was seated at the teacher's desk at the front of the room, but she rose when she saw us. "Hello, there, Mr. Palmer."

"Hello, Miss Anderson," Jim said politely. "I've brought your new student to meet you."

Miss Anderson smiled at me. "Hello, Stephen. I'm very pleased to meet you."

What did one say when meeting a teacher in a regular classroom? There was nothing like this in any etiquette book I'd ever read! I'd have to improvise. "Good morning, ma'am."

"Well, I'd best be getting on," Jim said. "I'll see you later, Stephen. You have fun."

By this point, the entire class had noticed us and I found myself the focus of all those eyes.

"Everyone, this is Stephen Browne, and he came to us only last night. I hope you'll all make him feel welcome. Back to work, now."

"Yes, Miss Anderson," they chorused. A few of the students still sneaked furtive glances at me, but I had no time for them since Miss Anderson led me to a seat and began to quiz me. She understood that my father had been a teacher and my mother a governess, was that right? It was? Good. Now, what books had I read? Did I know how to use a globe? An atlas? How far had I read in history? What about literature? How was my arithmetic? My writing? Could I draw? Did I know any French? Could I recite? What did I know about the sciences? Had my mother ever taught me music or the piano?

I felt as if Sebastian was giving me one of his examinations. As my butler, he felt that it was part of his duty to make sure that I was making adequate progress and paid attention to my lessons, and that meant that he would quiz me in much the same manner. Sometimes I rather enjoyed the mental exercise, dredging up answers that would satisfy him, but today I wasn't much in the mood. When I could get a word in edgewise, I asked if I might demonstrate what I knew and then she would be able to judge my education that much better.

I was deeply thankful when she agreed. Over the next hour I showed her the copies of the books I'd read and I'd written down the titles of many others. I showed her I could use both globe and atlas and I played a minuet, waltz, and march on the piano. After that I worked several mathematics problems and drew some figures and performed a proof in geometry before reciting one of Shakespeare's sonnets. I translated a page of French for her and sketched the piano on the chalkboard.

"I see," Miss Anderson said. "Your education so far has been excellent, Stephen. Your parents were wonderful teachers."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You'll be with my more advanced students," she said, leading me to a seat near the back of the room. "Daniel and Peter will be able to help you get settled in."

Since Daniel and Peter already shared a desk, I had a seat to myself. Inside the desk I found a slate, slate pencils, a copybook, and textbooks. Basic equipment, but I supposed it was adequate for the classroom. Miss Anderson brought the class to order and my first day in a classroom began.

I was swiftly disabused of my envy of these students. Instead, I was moved to pity. Being in a classroom was boring. The teacher determined the pace of the work and moving ahead on your own was not encouraged. The textbooks were dry enough to bore me to tears and when the time came for writing a composition I felt a little hope, but the teacher assigned the topic and I was required to write on that theme alone. Mathematics study consisted of drills and science was nothing but reading about scientific principles in a book. If this was the type of education most people in England were receiving, then we were in trouble as a nation.

At twelve-thirty lessons ended for the day and we were marched downstairs for lunch in the dining hall. I was hungry again and I was more than happy to sit down and eat. Lunch was beef stew and bread with butter and milk. Plain food, but I was glad to have something to eat after my scanty meals yesterday. Breakfast had only stopped the problem of my hunger for a short while. Jim was there at my table again and he brought a hot drink from the kitchen just for me, a milk, chicken broth, and egg drink that was said to be good for someone thin. I could remember Sebastian serving the same thing to me when I'd had a cold, so perhaps he'd thought me thin? I drank it down and kept myself from scowling only because of the bread pudding that was served for dessert. The smell of cinnamon and sugar and raisins had me longing for something sweet.

After lunch we were let loose in the garden for a while. Swings had been hung from the trees, a slide, seesaw, and carousel had been built, and of course an area had been set aside for cricket. I settled myself on a bench and watched the other children playing. Was Sebastian hiding somewhere out here, unable to get into the house and waiting for me to come outside so he could find me?

I waited until most of the other adults were busy and I slipped away, determined to explore a little bit and perhaps find a way over that wall. Since the gate was in full view of the house I couldn't try to climb it or slip through it, but perhaps I could climb over the wall...I wandered around the walled expanse and wondered just how long these people had lived here and if...

I turned a corner and found myself in a flower garden that took my breath away. Even though the flowers at Phantomhive were excellent and often featured in gardening publications, this garden put the one at the manor to ignonimous shame. I began to drift toward the white roses, their scent luring me...

"What are you doing here?"

I jumped, startled. Not far from me a girl was seated on a stone bench. Large blue eyes and white-blond hair and a white dress made me compare her to a ghost and I hoped that that was not the case. If demons were real, then ghosts could be as well. "I was exploring."

"You're the new one, Stephen Browne, aren't you?" she asked, getting to her feet and approaching me.

"Ah, yes..."

"Are you homesick?"

She was a terribly blunt thing, wasn't she? She appeared to be a few years older than I was, but she didn't seem to be one of Sanctuary's "rescued" children. If she wasn't that, what was she? "Uh..."

"Don't be," she interrupted. "You've come to a good place."

"Everyone keeps telling me that, but I'd prefer to go home."

"This is your home now," she said, returning to her bench. "If you're not intelligent enough to realize that then there's little hope for you, isn't there?"

Was she always this...this...maddening? "I didn't ask to come here, you know."

"None of the children have, but they've become happy here," she said off-handedly. "You'll only do yourself a disservice if you persist in being unhappy. You were looking for a way out, weren't you?"

I gaped at her. "Ah..."

"You were," she said, giving a shrug. "You might find a way out, but you won't get far. Sometimes you won't get further than ten feet past the wall, so don't waste your time."

If I could find a garden rake or something, I could beat her over the head... "Are you always so annoying?"

"Just to people who deserve to be a bit annoyed," she told me. "You look as if you won't settle in easily, and that always leads to headaches for the adults."

I fought down the urge to throttle her. She was a lady, after all. "Forgive me, but is this place somehow private? Am I unwelcome here?"

She regarded me solemnly. "Not at all. It's just that most of the children prefer to play rather than admire the flowers. Do you care for flowers?"

Flowers were something I often enjoyed. Sometimes the sight of them and their scent and the peace of the gardens were the only things that could help me relax. "I do. White roses are my favorite, actually."

She smiled. "Floribunda roses or climbing roses?"

"Both, actually."

Her smile broadened. "My name is Cecilia."

"I'm Stephen."

Once we'd discovered a mutual interest she and I could talk quite companionably. We were deep in a discussion of the floribunda roses when a shadow fell across our path. A tall man, dark-haired and dark-eyed yet pale and dressed in black was standing there, watching us.

The girl smiled. "Hello, Papa."

"Hello, dearest," he said, accepting an embrace from her the same way he would accept a nod from the Queen. "Who's this?"

"This is Stephen Browne, one of the new children. He arrived only last night," she said, introducing me. "He likes white roses."

Cecilia's father regarded me with those dark eyes and I suddenly felt as if I could not move. He was a hawk staring down a mouse...a very hungry hawk eyeing a very, very plump and mouthwatering mouse...I battled the impulse to run away and gave him a polite nod. "Good afternoon, sir."

He smiled, a slow, lazy smile. "Hello, Stephen." He took a few steps toward me and I was surprised at the feline way in which he moved. It didn't seem...normal. "How do you find Sanctuary so far?"

"I wish to go home," I said flatly, determined not to let this strange man intimidate me.

He waved my statement away with his hand. "Right now you do, but later, you'll not be able to think of this place as anything but your home," he said dismissively. "Welcome to Sanctuary, Stephen." He reached out and took hold of my chin with his fingers, tilting my head up so I would look at him. "My, my. I have to admit, youngster, that I've not seen eyes this shade before. Blue and dusky purple."

I clapped my hand to my face. Had I lost my eye patch and not noticed? No, it was still there, so how...?

"Don't tease him, Papa!" Cecilia chided. "No one has purple eyes and how could you see his eye behind that patch? Let him be!"

"Very well, my dear, since you say so," he said, smiling at her. "I hope you'll come to feel at home here, Stephen. In case you're curious, I am the owner of the house and I've allowed its use for Sanctuary, so now you know who I am and where I stand in this organization. I hope to see you again."

I nodded, still too unsettled to speak.

"Stephen! Where are you?"

Cecilia's father gave me a mocking smile. "He's over here, Jim!"

Jim entered the garden and heaved a sigh of relief. "You had me worried, going off on your own like that!"

"Stephen was with me," Cecilia told him. "He likes flowers."

"Well, next time, tell me where you're going," Jim said. "Come on, now, it's time to go back inside."

I was more than happy to leave with Jim so I said goodbye to Cecilia and gave her father a hasty farewell.

"Good afternoon, young man," he said, still staring at me in that disconcerting way. "I'm sure I'll see you again."

* * *

><p>Sebastian's POV:<p>

Once again, I awoke with a headache. So I had not died, after all. Pity, that. If I'd died, I wouldn't have to deal with this agony that most people called a head.

"Are you awake?" The voice was a deep purr and it startled me. A lone candle burned in a holder on the bedside table, but the rest of the room was in darkness.

"Yes," I said, struggling to sit up. "Where am I?"

"In a room in my house," the voice told me.

"How did I get here?"

"You were brought here after you lost consciousness," he told me. The voice still had that purring quality and I was growing increasingly nervous. "You should have left after failing to get over the wall. Instead, you managed to sneak in and then tried to get in one of windows. My wards on it knocked you senseless. I hope you've learned your lesson from this and you won't try anymore housebreaking."

"Why did you bring me into your house? Why not call the constable?" I asked.

"What good would a constable do for an elemental who'd found a demon trying to enter his domicile?"

I backed up against the headboard of the bed and saw stars from the impact. "An elemental?"

A deep, dark chuckle filled the room. "Indeed, Sebastian Michaelis."

Oh, no. This was bad. An elemental was a demon who recognized no higher power. They were extremely powerful and very, very old. In ancient days humans had revered them as capricious gods and they'd had thousands upon thousands of years to gain even more power to add to their considerable innate power. I glanced around frantically and spotted my captor, his eyes glowing yellow in the darkness.

"You seem afraid, Mr. Michaelis."

"I'd have to be an idiot not to be," I said, more than afraid.

He moved then, entering the light from the candle. He'd taken the form of a pale, dark-haired dark-eyed man, dressed in black. The glow from his eyes faded and he smiled, eyeing me as if I were an exceptionally choice tidbit. "Oh, you don't have to be afraid," he said, approaching my bed and sitting down on the edge. "I don't intend to kill you."

"What do you intend?" I asked, terrified at how close he was. This was my first time meeting an elemental, but I'd heard stories...usually, anyone going up against an elemental ended up dead.

"For now, it amuses me to keep you," he said, rolling up his sleeve and slashing his wrist. "Here. Drink."

I wanted to pull away, but I was still weak from what his wards had done to me. I knew that I needed some nourishment in order to recuperate, but why did he have to feed me _this_ way?

"You can drink on your own or I'll force it down you," he said pleasantly. "Either way, you'll drink."

The first taste acted on me the same way brandy acted on humans. I felt as if I were swallowing liquid fire and I tried to pull away, but he held my head where it was and it was either swallow what was filling my mouth or choke. I kept swallowing until he took his wrist away and my head was spinning and my body was burning with fire that was also coursing through my veins. The sensation was painful and before I could stop myself, I screamed. I fought to get a deep breath and instead of breathing normally, I screamed again. I kept screaming until my body was spent and the pain had eased. When I became sensible again, I found that he was holding me.

"It's all right, Mr. Michaelis," he said, patting me on the back the same way one would pat a dog. "Next time I'll dilute it with a little milk."

"I doubt...I'll survive...the next time," I gasped, wiping perspiration from my brow. I felt as if I'd swallowed liquid lightning and I prayed that I'd never have to swallow it again!

He chuckled and settled me against the pillows despite the fact that I was soaked with sweat. I fell into a light doze but I woke up when I felt a towel against my face. He'd stripped my clothes from me and was now cleaning me up with a damp towel. Once my body was wiped down he dressed me in a long nightshirt and tucked me into bed.

"Get some rest," he told me. "You know, your master...I quite see why you braved the wards to get to him. He is as unique as you are."

That statement should have kept me awake fretting for hours, but my eyes closed and I slept.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ciel's POV:

I learned quickly what to expect from my captivity in this place. Boredom. Complete and utter boredom. There was very little to distinguish one day from another and very little changed at all. What I wanted, more than anything, was to get out of here and go home. I would be more than willing to hand the whole case over to Scotland Yard if it meant I would be able to return home that much sooner.

It was not to be, however. I had seen no sign of Sebastian and I could only conclude that something had happened. Just what, I had no way of telling. What on earth could lay a demon low and stop him from joining his master when ordered to? A stronger demon could, but what were the chances that that had happened? I knew that Marcellus could overcome Sebastian in a fight, but would Marcellus just attack Sebastian for no cause?

The largest part of my worry came from the fact that I didn't know what had happened to Sebastian, where he was now, or when he was going to get to my location. If not for the mark still on my eye I would have begun to fear his death.

With all of this worry, I found myself grateful for the routine my captors imposed on me. Knowing what to expect made it much easier to cope with my captivity. I and the other boys would rise in the morning when called, wash up, dress, put our room in order, and go down to breakfast. After breakfast we were taken on a morning walk outside in the house grounds and after that we would go to the classrooms for lessons. After lessons came lunch, outside play, chores, tea, quiet play inside and study, supper, and then free time until evening wash up and bed. The only day that varied at all was Sunday, when no lessons were held. Instead of lessons, the adults spent even more time with us, playing games, reading aloud, telling stories, or organizing informal lessons, like cooking in the kitchen with the cook, Mrs. Partridge, or handicrafts in a workshop on the grounds with an older man called Mr. Llewellyn. I did spend one afternoon in the worskhop out of sheer boredom and by the end of the day I'd managed to make a wooden puzzle box.

Night time was hardest for me. I would lie awake worrying until the wee hours of the morning. Where was Sebastian? Why hadn't he come yet? What was I going to do if he couldn't come? What if I never found him again? Outside of this place, I was Ciel Phantomhive and I still had a good many enemies. I was positive that it was only Sebastian's protection that had kept me alive for so long. If my enemies found me without Sebastian at my side, then I was as good as dead. In this place, I was Stephen Browne, one of their charges, and entirely at the mercy of the adults around me. Anything could happen to me while I was here and I wouldn't be able to stop it. I needed Sebastian if only to reassure myself that I was safe.

Over time, other things I began to notice started to worry me. Every now and then, a child would disappear for a night. One of my roommates, a quiet boy named Thomas, disappeared shortly after supper one night and did not appear until lunchtime the next day. For the rest of the day he appeared sleepy and he went to bed directly after supper that evening. The following week, it was Jasper who disappeared. Nancy, one of the girls in my class, was the one who shed light on the mystery.

"It's nothing to worry about," she whispered to me one afternoon during lessons while she and I tried to draw a map of Roman London.

"But what's happening?" I asked, keeping a wary eye on Miss Anderson. She had a tendency to appear when she was least wanted, but fortunately, she was enough of an educator to recognize when a student needed more accelerated instruction. Nancy and I were the only recipients of a course of study designed to prepare one for university and I was thankful for the change. Now, instead of being bored to tears, I was merely doing the same lessons I would have done had I been at home. (I had Sebastian to thank for that. Following that course of study had been his idea.)

"They're only going to sleep in the chapel," she said.

"Why would anyone go to sleep in a chapel?" I wanted to know. The chapel was the one room of this house that I hadn't seen aside from the adults' rooms.

"Rosie said that eventually we'll all get to sleep there," she told me. Rosie was the girls' version of Jim. "Penny slept there last week and she said it was great."

"Did she tell you what happened?" I pressed.

"She said it was nice and warm there, you went to sleep in a big, cozy bed and you had really good dreams."

So much for Penny's descriptive abilities. I was sure that this going-to-sleep-in-the-chapel thing was something bad and something I should avoid at all costs.

I got to see Cecilia most afternoons. She was often outside after our lunchtime, either walking in the grounds or in her garden, enjoying the flowers. I would join her as much as possible and do my own share of enjoying the flowers or I would ask her questions, hoping to get some more information. Her father was called Mr. Augustus Caldwell, but the name meant nothing to me. According to Cecilia, he worked in publishing and he had a sweetheart.

"He's not married, then?" I asked, rather surprised.

"He was married to my mother, but she died when I was little," she explained.

I offered her my apologies. "And now he has a sweetheart? Do you like her?"

"Pretty well," Cecilia admitted. "She's nice and I can tell that she loves children. Also, I can tell that she makes Papa happy, and that's all I'll ask. He wasn't very happy with Mamma, you see."

"Why's that?"

"They were both pressured into marrying by their families," she sighed. "They tried to be happy but it didn't happen. All that they really had in common was me. He was sorry when Mamma died, of course, but I think some small part of him was relieved, too. He no longer had to pretend."

I thought about what she'd told me. "How do you know all this if your mother died when you were little?"

"Servants talk," she said lightly. "They didn't always know I was listening."

Poor girl, having to get information about her own family from the servants. There had not been anything like that in my own family. If there was something my parents had felt I needed to know, then they told me themselves. That was how I had known at ten years old just how dangerous my father's work was and what his duties had been. That had also made me eager to take it up again.

I didn't spend all my time chatting with people. Whenever I could, I was busy exploring my surroundings and committing them to memory. If I had to run from this place, then I wanted several escape routes available. I knew all the little corridors and stairwells that this huge house had and I knew any number of ways to get outside in the shortest amount of time possible. The shortest way out was to jump from a second floor window, onto the roof of the scullery, down to the ground, and out the side gate.

I wasn't always able to slip away to explore as much as I wished, though. There was always an adult nearby, asking questions and directing me back toward the group. (I think they suspected me of trying to plan an escape.) Jim had an uncanny ability of appearing whenever I was about to sneak away from the other children to go exploring and I began to suspect the man of being able to read minds. One afternoon I managed to sneak away from him and make my way down a back staircase, but it led to the kitchen. In the kitchen was the formidable Mrs. Partridge, whose mission in life was to feed people and fuss over them. Jim found me in the kitchen a half-hour later, fending off another onslaught of bread pudding and hot milk. I was very glad when he took me back upstairs and needless to say, I didn't try that particular route of escape again. My stomach wouldn't take it.

My difficulties with food did not stop there, however. I continued to be given countless little things to eat over the course of the day, on doctor's orders. Baked oatmeal, graham bread with butter, apple sauce, malted milk, beef tea, bread and milk, custard, blanc mange...it seemed never ending. All of those dishes were meant to strengthen me or put weight on me and I was coming to loathe them. These little snacks tasted good, yes, but they were boring. I often found myself wishing for one of Sebastian's dinners or teas. I hadn't quite appreciated his culinary abilities before this and I found myself determined to show my appreciation as soon as we returned home. I would make certain he knew how much I enjoyed his cooking.

I spent a good part of each day wishing that the adults were a little less watchful, but my nerves and stomach conspired against me. One day, about three weeks after arriving in Sanctuary, my nerves acted on my stomach so much that I was sick shortly after finishing lunch. Jim whisked me off to see the doctor before I could protest.

"How long has your stomach been bothering you, Stephen?" he asked, prodding my midsection while I lay on his exam table.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," I snapped. "My stomach isn't bothering me!"

"Then why did you vomit like that?" Jim wanted to know. "You went absolutely gray and then you were sick."

"I guess lunch didn't agree with me," I said, trying to sit up.

"Stay down," Dr. Evans told me firmly. "Do you have any pain anywhere? Do you feel ill?"

"No, I feel fed up!" I complained. "I told you both weeks ago that I want to go home!"

Dr. Evans looked at me carefully. "How have you been sleeping, Stephen?"

"Fine," I lied.

"You've been up late worrying, haven't you?" Dr. Evans demanded, fixing me with a glare. "You're overtired and you've been working yourself into a fine state every night, isn't that right?"

"You'd worry too, if you'd been kidnapped," I pointed out, trying to sit up again.

Dr. Evans' hand slammed into my shoulder, forcing me down again. His other hand quickly moved over my stomach, poking and prodding here and there. One poke made me gasp and fight to pull away. "That hurts!"

"As I thought," he sighed. "You've given yourself a sour stomach with all this worrying you've been doing, Stephen."

"You won't let me go home!" I almost wailed. "Of course I'm going to worry!"

Dr. Evans let me sit up. "Stephen, has anyone hurt you here?"

"No," I admitted.

"And no one will," he added. "You're safe here. This place will be a safe haven for you until you've grown up. Do you understand?"

"I understand you won't let me go," I said, rubbing my stomach. Then I yawned. Jim and I were late for outside, but what I really wanted to do was go back to my room and crawl into bed. All of those late nights were beginning to wear on me a bit.

The doctor sighed. "I can see you're not going to be an easy patient at all, Stephen, either now or in the future."

"What do you suggest we do, doctor?" Jim asked.

"For Stephen, a change in diet until his nerves have calmed. Nothing rich, fried, or spicy. Simple, nourishing food is what he needs. That, and perhaps a nap a day if he's going to be up all night worrying. He needs rest."

"I do not need a nap!" I protested.

"Says the boy with dark shadows under his eyes and who's been yawning for the last five minutes," Jim said flatly. "I'm inclined to agree with you."

"I'm glad someone does," the doctor said, looking pointedly at me while he jotted several things down on a piece of paper before handing it to Jim. "Give that to Mrs. Partridge so she'll know what to make, all right?"

"Certainly." Jim took the paper and folded it up. "Should I take Stephen back to his room for a rest?"

If Jim left me alone in my room, then this would be a chance to go exploring...and perhaps a chance to get away. I was sure I couldn't take being confined to this place anymore.

"No, you'd best leave him here since the infirmary is always quiet. He can sleep in one of the infirmary beds and I'll wake him in a bit so he can be on time for chores."

"I don't need to go to sleep," I said, hopping down from the exam table.

"Given how irritable you are, then you're in dire need of sleep," Dr. Evans informed me. "You'll stay here and have a nap and then we'll see how you feel after that."

Apparently, being his patient meant that you had no choice in treatment. In short order I was tucked into an infirmary bed and settled for a nap. I lay there, fuming and wishing I could find something to beat him over the head with...something that would do some damage...

I must have really been in need of some sleep since I did go to sleep shortly after being put down for my rest. When I woke up, I found Mr. Caldwell sitting at my bedside.

"Hello, there, youngster," he said with a slight smile. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Why are you here? Where's Dr. Evans?"

"Someone took a nasty fall in the garden, so he went to help," he explained. "He asked me to sit with you while you slept."

"It wasn't Cecilia who fell, was it?" I asked, feeling somewhat worried. She could be annoying, but she was one of the few people I could really talk to in this place.

"No, one of the boys," he corrected me. "I was wondering if you could help me with something, actually, Stephen."

Intrigued, I sat up. "What is it?"

"Dr. Evans has told me that you're not an easy patient," he said conversationally. "Well, I would like to know what a difficult patient is thinking when he refuses to eat anything."

I stared at him, confused. "Are you a doctor, too?"

"No, just someone who's taking care of someone who needs taken care of," he told me. "However, this person is difficult. He never wants his meals no matter what I serve him or how they're served. Even more annoying, he fights going to sleep. Sometimes it's all I can do to get him to close his eyes and rest. As a difficult patient yourself, could you tell me what goes through the mind of such a person when he engages in such self-destructive acts?"

"I think it varies from person to person," I said, even more confused. "No two people are exactly alike, you know."

He nodded. "I was afraid of that. Was your Uncle Lewis a difficult patient when you had to take care of him?"

Part of my backstory that I'd let "slip" had been that I'd taken care of Uncle Lewis whenever he'd been hungover. "Sometimes," I confessed.

"And how did you manage him when he was difficult?"

"Baby steps," I said. "Very small steps, really. Sometimes I would have to coax him bit by bit until he ate." I could remember Marcellus coaxing Sebastian when he was ill to get him to eat, and with enough coaxing, he would. It was possible that this patient of Mr. Caldwell's would respond to being coaxed.

He nodded. "Coaxing. I see."

"Who is it you're taking care of?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

He smiled. "A very stubborn young man who's been left on my hands," he said. "He's been exhausted and ill due to an accident, and being ill makes him fretful. I'll try coaxing him and see how that works."

"You'll have to let me know if it does," I said, just as the door opened and Jim appeared. He was carrying one of my roommates, Robert, and looking rather frazzled.

"Hello, Jim," Mr. Caldwell said. "How's the patient?"

"Rueing the fact that he tried to climb that tree," Jim said, settling Robert on the exam table while Dr. Evans rushed in behind them.

"I'm rueing it as well," he said, looking Robert over. "How's your head, Robert?"

Robert groaned. "Please cut it off?"

"That would solve the problem quite nicely," Dr. Evans said acidly. "What possessed you to climb that tree?"

"Jasper dared me..."

"That didn't mean you had to do it!"

I was finding this quite entertaining, but Dr. Evans noticed me. "How are you feeling, Stephen?" he asked, swabbing at a gash on Robert's forehead.

"Much better," I admitted.

"Glad to hear it," he said. "Now, it's almost time for you to do your chores, so hurry along."

The adults were too busy with Robert, so I gladly left the room. Jim and Mr. Caldwell were recruited to hold Robert still while that gash on his forehead was stitched so for a change I was on my own. I smiled as I wended my way down the corridor. This was the perfect time to try leaving the house. It was fully possible that Sebastian was unable to enter the grounds for some reason and was only waiting for me to get beyond the wall before he met up with me. With that thought in mind, I began to make my stealthy get-away.

* * *

><p>Sebastian's POV:<p>

I was trapped in every demon's living nightmare. The one thing that a demon had to fear was someone more powerful than he was, and now I was facing someone infinitely more powerful than me. The elemental was dangerous, so dangerous that I fully expected him to kill me any time now, but for some reason, he did not. What really irked me was that he seemed to find me amusing sometimes.

He seemed to follow no pattern that I could discern. Often, I could smell the scent of flowers and grass on him, other times, the scents of the children and adults around this place. More than once I caught my master's scent and that worried me beyond all thought. Why was he around my master? What was happening to my master while I was not there? Was he all right? Was he getting enough to eat? Enough rest? Was he fretting the way he usually did or had he found some way to relax?

I didn't have much chance to do any fretting, myself. My captor would often just appear, startling me. He would come to talk, to feed me, and to take care of me. I was so weak that he was taking care of me the same way one would care for a small child, and that was absolutely mortifying.

I learned what to expect from him early on. The second time I awoke, he was there, watching me.

"Good afternoon, Sebastian," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Fairly awful," I told him. It was true: My head pounded, my stomach churned, my joints ached, and I felt so weak I could hardly bear it. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A few days," he told me.

A few days! My young master must have been waiting all that time!

"Your master is fine," he said. "Right now, he's upstairs having tea with the other children. Aside from doing a little fretting and a few little disobediences, he's fine."

I knew he wasn't strictly speaking the truth. He was fine for the time being, and that was all I could hope for. "Has he been eating?" He was already so small and slender that I knew he could not afford to lose much weight...

"Doctor's orders have given him several little snacks during the day aside from his regular meals," he informed me. "He's been eating. Speaking of eating...are you hungry?"

I knew what was coming. "No."

He tilted his head to the side and regarded me with a thoughtful look. "I'm sure you are. You have to be hungry."

No, I wasn't hungry, but I _was_ ravenous. My body was craving nourishment as much as a thirsty man would crave drink.

A light clink brought me out of my thoughts. He was busy pouring a glass of milk...milk that was tinted green. He'd added something to it...To that glass he added a bit of his blood, added fresh from a new gash in his wrist. He mixed the concoction well and brought it over to me, and I wished with all my being that I could pull away from that glass in his hand. Why did he want to feed me, anyway? Any sensible demon would have killed me already!

"Here we are," he said, helping me sit up and lean against him before holding the glass to my lips. "Enjoy, Sebastian."

"I'm not hungry," I insisted, bringing both of my hands up to lock around his wrist and maybe pull his hand away. "Really, I'm not."

"You're telling fibs, now," he said. "You're not hungry, truthfully speaking, but you do want to swallow what's in this glass. Am I right?"

He was right, but I wasn't going to admit it. "You don't have to feed me."

"Oh, but I want to," he said, tilting the glass a little more. "Open up, now."

Before I could protest any more, the milk concoction filled my mouth and I swallowed. I kept swallowing, the flavor leaving me helpless. I could tell that he'd added several herbs to the milk, several that were good for healing demons and even more that would give me strength. His blood was at a tolerable level, making the milk taste sweet and spicy and delicious. All too soon, he was tilting my head back, allowing the last of the drink to trickle down my throat.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, settling me against the pillows again. "In a few hours you'll have some more if you're still hungry."

My mouth watered. Whatever he'd done to that milk...No, I couldn't let myself look forward to such a thing! I had to keep my mind on important things! "Thank you, but that's all I feel like taking," I said. "Could we talk for a little bit?"

"About?"

"Why haven't you killed me? Why are you bothering to keep me alive and why are you keeping me here?"

"Because I wish to keep you here, and I don't wish to kill you," he told me. "You interest me, you see."

I stared at him. This was...unexpected. I was a normal demon, nothing more and nothing less. Why should I interest him? "Do I? Why?"

He settled into a chair next to my bed. "Several reasons, none of which are easily explained."

Annoyance flared, but I beat it back. He sounded just like Marcellus whenever he said that he had his reasons for something!

"I suppose, if I had to give a reason for why you interest me so much...I'd have to say that you live among humans so easily. You're the only demon I've met who does it as easily as I do."

I was surprised and more than a little intrigued. "You've lived among humans?"

"For the last thirty-five years, I've lived among humans," he said. "I've lived a human life up until now, and this is the first time I've run across a demon in that time. From what I've been able to learn, for the past few years you've been the perfect human butler for a human child. Such a thing interests me, as I've said."

"So you're keeping me alive just to satisfy your curiosity?" I asked.

"Not quite," he confessed. "I'm also keeping you alive because Ciel would be very distressed at losing you."

I stared at him once again, my mind afire with worry. "How did you know my master's real name?"

"I met his father once, about ten years ago, and Ciel has a very similar scent. They look alike and with such a similar scent, it wasn't hard to figure out who he really was. I haven't told anyone else, though, if that's what's worrying you." He chuckled. "You know, I've been wondering if Ciel is anything like Vincent, and I have to admit that he is. Vincent's scent was just as mouth-watering as Ciel's is."

I surged up from my pillows but almost as quickly I collapsed again.

"Oh, don't worry, Ciel's not about to become my next meal," he told me. "You've nothing to fear there."

"What do I have to fear?" I wanted to know.

"Why, nothing, yet," he said, smiling. "Nothing at all, child."

Shortly after that, he told me that I could call him Augustus if I wished and asked if there was anything I might like to pass the time. He had a human daughter and he always spent some time with her around this time of the day, so he had to go.

"No, there's nothing," I said, feeling absolutely miserable with nerves.

"Well, if you need anything, simply call. I'll hear you."

I didn't doubt that he would. As time passed, I continued to sleep a great deal and I would wake up to find him there, waiting for me to wake. He would feed me, not just his blood in milk, but soups made from bone marrow, shreds of meat and his blood. Often he would give me the milk and blood mixture again, infused with herbs. I tasted foxglove, oleander, monkshood, yew, hemlock, and nightshade. All were highly poisonous to humans, but they would strengthen and heal an ailing demon. It looked as if Augustus knew healing plants as well as Marcellus did.

He did more than feed me. More than once he helped me bathe in a large wooden washtub that had been hidden in the corner of the room behind a screen. Sometimes, he would come just to read to me or to talk. Other times he would come to give me massages or coax me to sleep or eat. On principle, I fought to avoid the meals he gave me, but I was never successful. Such arguments ended with me eating or sleeping as he wished me to. The things that frightened me most, however, where the massages. What purpose did they serve? Why was he so admant in giving me one several times a day? After one virulent argument, he stayed with me, stroking my face with his fingers after completing my massage.

"I wonder if you'll ever be docile, Sebastian," he said, smooth my hair away from his eyes as he tucked me in.

"Why would you want me to be docile?" I asked, feeling worry spiral up in my gut again.

"I think it would be...amusing," he said, letting his fingers trail along my jaw. "And...I think...enticing. You've quite captivated me, you know."

"Enticing?" I gasped, my mind equating him to an elemental version of Grell. "I've captivated you?" That was _all_ I needed!

He chuckled, but the sound didn't give me any reassurance. "Oh, don't worry. I prefer females, but I have to admit, I'm curious to see what you would be like if I taught you how to be docile. I think you would be quite charming."

There was nothing I could think of to say to that. Oh, I could think it, definitely, but saying it out loud might enrage him, and I didn't want him to kill me or tear a limb off me. The only things I feared aside from losing my master were losing my life and what he might do to teach me to be "docile." I had a strong feeling that any such lessons in the matter were bound to be painful and humiliating.

"Don't let such things vex you," he said, tucking my blankets under my chin. "I was only thinking aloud, after all. Go to sleep, Sebastian. You need your rest."

For once, I was glad to go to sleep, if just to get away from him for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ciel's POV:

My escape seemed to be going well. There'd been no hue and cry raised at the house, so no one had seen me leave. Perfect. I made my way down the road, hoping that Sebastian would appear, but when he did not, I kept going. There was no reason for me to go back and every reason for me to keep going.

Still, I was worried. It was not like Sebastian to just...disappear like that. I could always count on him being there. I knew he would remain by my side whether I told him to or not, and to not have him with me was strange and more than a little unsettling. Where was he? Why hadn't he come yet? I still had the mark, so he wasn't dead and our contract was still valid. Whenever I got myself into difficulties, Sebastian was there, protecting me and getting me out of them.

It seemed I had come to take such things for granted. I would have to work on that; it would not be a good idea to become too dependent on someone else, even if that someone was a demon. When you began to take things for granted others could attack and take advantage of you before you realized they were a danger.

I kept moving. The day was cool and there was a hint of rain in the air, which I hoped would hold off until I got to someplace resembling civilization. Then, it would be possible to send a wire to London and arrange for transportation. Once I got back to London...well, we would see.

All right, as a plan it was less than perfect, but it was all I had.

I kept walking, trying to squelch my rising worry for Sebastian. I'd never known him to go so long without being by my side. There were times when I was convinced that he...well, enjoyed being in my presence, not because he felt affection for me but because...well, being near me was something he needed. I didn't quite know how to explain it. The fact that he was gone was more strange than I could say. I only hoped that he was all right. A servant who was ill or injured could not perform his accustomed tasks. That, and...well, that.

I was cursing my shoes within an hour. They were appropriate for wandering the house and the gardens, but not for moving over country roads for any length of time. I could feel every stone, pebble, twig, and rut in the road and my feet were killing me. I was pretty sure I had blisters forming and I'd turned my right ankle a little on a stone. I'd never quite appreciated carriages before this, and now I appreciated them so much that I was sure that I'd never take them for granted again.

One day, I resolved to myself, I was going to make sure that I would be in a condition to handle anything physical. It shouldn't be this difficult for me to get away! A few riding lessons and fencing lessons a week and strolling around the garden was not cutting it for me for exercise! I might have to install a place where I could work out at the manor. I could count on Sebastian keeping me on track...when I found him again...when we got home.

I could just see smoke rising from the fires of a nearby village when I heard the sound of a cart. Where was it? What were the chances the farmers around him would realize where I came from and try to take me back there? A second later the cart crested the hill ahead and I relaxed; it was a woman driver. She was likely a farmer's wife, either a dairy wife or henwife, taking out milk or eggs to sell. She wouldn't think twice about a boy on a country road, possibly headed to town on an errand for his mother. If she did stop to ask questions, I would just hand her that story and be on my way.

The cart drew closer and I fixed a friendly, innocuous smile on my face, hoping she would drive right by...

"Stephen?"

I froze. I knew that voice.

"Now, what are you doing all the way out here?" Mrs. Partridge asked, putting the brake on and tying the reins to the cart. "Does anyone at the house know where you are?"

My first encounter with Mrs. Partridge had not gone well. I'd wandered into her kitchen by accident, she'd scolded me, and then she started to feed me. It was only Jim looking for me that got me away from her, and he wasn't here to rescue me a second time.

She moved fast for such an ample woman. She was off the cart, had hold of me, pulled me up onto the cart beside her, and proceeded to lecture me about how dangerous it was for me to wander off like I had. Somehow she was managing the reins and keeping hold of my arm at the same time, making it practically impossible for me to jump off the cart and get away. I tried to pull away, protested that she was hurting me, but she kept hold of me the whole way back the house. As we pulled up to the house I could see the front door was open. Jim was standing in the door, talking to the doctor and a few other adults.

"Jim!" Mrs. Partridge called. "If you're looking for Stephen, here he is!"

The looks they were giving me would have killed a lesser man.

"What on earth were you doing; going off like that on your own?" Jim demanded, pulling me down from the cart and setting me on my feet. "Do you have any idea how worried we all were? What made you do something so stupid?"

I glared at him. "I was going home!" I snapped. "I don't want to stay here any more!"

"Nonsense," Jim said. "Don't do this again, do you understand me, Stephen?"

"Let go!"

"That's enough, Jim," Mr. Caldwell said. "He's not in the mood to listen to anything right now. He needs some time alone, I think."

That was how I found myself bundled upstairs and placed on my bed with explicit orders to stay put. I was furious and more than ready to murder whoever was in front of me, but I paused when I saw that it was Mr. Caldwell. For some reason, I couldn't lose my temper with this man. He...made me uneasy. I had a strong feeling that if I hit him, he wouldn't hit me back, but he would do something that was worse than being struck. I didn't want to know what that was.

"Stay here," he told me quietly. "I'll be up to talk to you later."

Waiting was not pleasant. I was nervous and the waiting was not helping me calm down. I fiddled with a jigsaw puzzle for a while, and then I tried to read a book, but I was not in the mood for fairy tales. Why on earth couldn't they have a few good books, some that would be something of a challenge to read and actually be interesting?

It wasn't long before I became hungry. I'd lost my lunch, missed tea, and now it was past dinner time. I knew it wouldn't be long before my stomach started to hurt from being empty. Sooner or later, they'd have to feed me, wouldn't they? I really, truly wanted to go downstairs to dinner, but Mr. Caldwell had told me to stay where I was. What would he do if I disobeyed him? If I disobeyed Sebastian (not that he actually had the temerity to give me orders) then all the retribution I could expect would be a large serving of vegetables at the next meal and possibly some small joke at my expense disguised as a conscientious butler's duties. I'd learned to live with such things long ago since I wanted his services far more than I minded the occasional minor inconvenience. Mr. Caldwell...well, I didn't know just what he would do in response to disobedience.

I groaned. Why on earth was I worrying about this?

Easy answer. I was undercover.

Footsteps alerted me to someone coming down the hall. The door opened and there stood Mr. Caldwell, holding a vision of heaven: a full supper tray.

"Hello, Stephen. Are you calmer now?"

"Yes," I told him, my eyes fastened on the tray.

"Hungry?"

"Very."

He placed the tray on the table for me and I wasted no time in sitting down and starting on the stew and dumplings in front of me. I paused long enough to give him a hasty "thank you."

"You're welcome," Mr. Caldwell said easily, sitting down across from me. "Stephen, can you tell me why you ran away?"

_Ran away._ It sounded so childish. "I wasn't running away. I was going home."

"You have a home here," he pointed out.

"I didn't ask for it."

He smiled. "Did you ask for the one you had with your uncle?"

"I was glad to have it," I snapped. "If Uncle Lewis hadn't taken me in, I could have ended up in a workhouse or orphanage or worse. Uncle Lewis gave me a home. No one had any right to take me away from it."

"To take you away from a man who beat you and barely fed you?" Mr. Caldwell said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, of course we wouldn't have an obligation to a child to make sure he isn't harmed. Perish the thought."

I fought down the urge to gouge out his eyes with my spoon. I took another bit of stew to keep that from happening. Making him angry would not serve any purpose just yet.

"Mrs. Partridge said that she'd never been so surprised when she saw you on the road," he continued.

"I don't doubt it," I said, bisecting a dumpling and popping half into my mouth. If he was driving to a point, then I couldn't anticipate it. The best course of action for me at this point was to stay silent.

"I must confess, I was rather surprised at your actions, myself," he continued. "I keep asking myself the question, 'Why would a boy do such a thing?'"

Any answer I gave him would be exceedingly rude with plenty of words unbefitting a gentleman, so I kept my mouth shut. It did not do to lose one's temper.

"It makes me wonder..." Mr. Caldwell trailed off. "You know, Stephen, we give you relative freedom here."

The temptation to lose my temper was overwhelming, though. If I spoke, I'd start shouting about his ridiculous ideas of "freedom." Why wouldn't he just get to the bloody point? I finished the last of my stew, sopped up the gravy with bread, and started on the baked pudding while he fell into a brown study. I had an odd feeling that he might try to take the tray away from me if I didn't eat it quickly.

"Slow down, I'm not about to take that away from you," he said, sounding rather surprised. "You'll choke if you eat so fast."

I stopped and glanced at him, but I did slow down after that.

"Stephen, you lost your mother when you were younger, is that right?"

I nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"I wonder if some of your restlessness is due to not having a mother's care for so long," he said thoughtfully. "Do you miss your mother?"

My remaining appetite disappeared. "I'd rather not talk about it."

He nodded. "I see. I'll let the topic rest, for now. What we need to do this moment is think of a suitable punishment for you. You had every adult here worried sick when you disappeared."

Now I was beginning to get nervous. Punishment? When I'd been younger, my parents had punished me by sending me to my room, making me sit in a corner, not having sweets, etc. They always made sure that any punishment they gave me was reasonable and related to the offense I'd committed, but these people... "You're going to punish me?"

"I think that the situation warrants it," Mr. Caldwell said. "Everyone else has left the punishment up to me."

He was going to punish me? Oh, no. "Are you going to whip me?" A child who'd been living rough in the East End would logically conclude that such a punishment would be given, and often it would be given for even the most trifling offense.

He looked shocked. "Certainly not! What a barbaric idea! No, something else is needed, not a whipping." He stopped and appeared to think. "I feel that since you didn't appreciate the freedom you already had, it might be good for you if you experienced real constraint."

I didn't like the sound of this. "What do you mean?"

He looked at me, and for one insane moment, the man reminded of Sebastian! "Have you finished eating?"

I swallowed hard. I didn't think I could eat anything else with the way I was feeling. "Yes."

"Then come with me."

I leapt from my chair and backed away. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me where we're going!" I shouted. I was afraid now.

"I'm taking you upstairs to the adults' floor. There's an empty bedroom up there. That's where you'll spend the next week. You'll take all your meals there and you'll do your studying there. At the end of the week you'll be brought back down here to the other children. Do you understand?"

I looked for a way to escape, but he was between me and the door. (It should be a requirement for all house builders to give each room two doors!) "You're going to lock me up?" Being locked up could always make me panic. I'd been kidnapped once while Sebastian had been trying to fend off an attacker and my kidnappers had locked me in a closet. Being in that confined space had brought back memories of my captivity and by the time Sebastian had found me and gotten me out of there I'd been catatonic. It had taken a full day for me to come out of that fit.

"No, I won't lock you up," Mr. Caldwell said patiently. "Your door will not be locked unless you want it to be. I do not care for being locked up myself, so I would not inflict it on a child."

He sounded so reasonable that I could feel myself calming down. "I'll have the room to myself?"

"Yes."

"No one will come in during the night?"

I could tell what he was thinking: What has this poor child lived through that's made him so afraid? He didn't say it, though. "No one. If you like, I'll even post a guard."

I shook my head. "Should I bring my school books?"

"Bring whatever you think will help you stave off boredom," he told me. "You'll be on your own a lot."

That was generous. He was giving me a chance to bring things so I wouldn't be bored out of my skull. I packed my school books, a few volumes of poetry, and a drawing pad and pencils in a pillowcase and followed him out the door. All of my instincts were screaming at me to turn and run, but for some reason I could not fathom, I kept following him. Down the hall, up a staircase, down another hall, and into a room tucked under the eaves. Someone had been there ahead of us and had prepared it for me: There were fresh linens on the bed, a fire in the grate, and a pitcher of hot water on the washstand. On the bedside table was a carafe of drinking water and a glass.

One thing occurred to me. "Where's the bathroom on this floor?" I prayed there was one. I _hated_ chamber pots!

"Directly across the hall," Mr. Caldwell informed me. "If you're not in this room, then the only other room you're allowed to be in is the bathroom. Do you understand?"

I nodded and placed my belongings on the single chair.

"Good. Now, I think it will be good for you to go to bed a little early tonight. Don't forget to wash up. Good night, Stephen."

"Good night."

Once he was gone, I went through the motions of washing up and changing and sank with a weary sigh into the bed. Maybe I would know what to do about this whole mess in the morning.

* * *

><p>Sebastian's POV:<p>

My recovery continued at the same glacial pace, unfortunately. Even more unfortunate was a related fact: I still could not move or even sit up on my own. I could move without pain now, but only if my "nurse" helped me to move. I wanted, more than anything else, to get up and start exploring this house for my master, but I could not.

I wanted to scream my frustration, but I didn't even have the energy to sustain it for very long. Instead, I was...flat. Flat in bed, and so flat in spirits that one could have slipped me under a door like a letter. Such a thought, I was sure, would have amused the young master to no end. Lately I'd been having a lot of thoughts that I was sure would amuse him, but I couldn't share them with him. Very, very trying, that.

It wasn't long before I had two nurses. I hadn't believed Augustus when he'd told me that he had a human daughter. If a demon cared for a human, it was because he had a contract with that person, not because he wanted the joys of fatherhood. What demon in his right mind would take on the care of a human child?

Oh, the irony in that question! At any rate, Augustus brought the girl to meet me. She was a slender, white-blond creature with a kind soul...and a _rabid_ nursing complex. I wasn't safe from her "ministering angel" spirit. I just knew that the girl owned a copy of Florence Nightingale's _Notes on Nursing_ and had memorized it! I'd read the same book myself when the master had first fallen ill and I recognized Florence's influence in how Cecilia watched after me. (I knew, without any doubt, that I was this girl's nursing guinea pig. She was learning how to nurse someone by following the instructions in the book and by making me miserable.)

The biggest trial was the fact that she thought I was human, which meant that she brought me meals...constantly! I didn't like to eat human food since to me, it tasted bland and insipid...it was amazing to me that something like it could actually nourish humans. At any rate, Cecilia kept bringing dish after dish to me, trying to get me to eat. I could tell that my thin frame worried her to no end, so she would appear at all hours, usually with a full tray of dainty little dishes that were designed to tempt an invalid's appetite. While I admired the artistry in their preparation and presentation, I was not prepared to eat them. Besides, if I ate a large human meal I would be sick and miserable for a day or so. Just because humans regarded something as nourishing food didn't mean that it was good for demons.

I complained to Augustus after close to a week of this, and he told me that I would have to eat the next meal she brought and I wasn't to worry; it would be something I could enjoy and ingest without a problem. That afternoon for my lunch Cecilia brought a beef soup filled with shreds of meat and I could tell that several herbs had been cooked in the broth before being removed. They would poison a human, but they were good for a healing demon. Also, they made a bland meal taste rather good. While too much human food could make us ill, a little bit here and there wouldn't hurt, as long as they had those herbs and she kept bringing _small_ meals.

As I gained in strength, Augustus began to spend more time with me. He would talk about commonplaces like the weather, the things the children were up to, the other adults in the house, and so on. He only mentioned my young master if I brought him up. (Most irritating.) When we didn't talk, he read to me. While I slowly gained my strength, he read aloud books, magazines, and newspapers. Occasionally he would bring out a deck of cards or a game for us to play, like chess or backgammon. When he couldn't be there to spend time with me, he would set up a phonograph and play music for me while he was gone. I became quite fond of Tchaikovsky after some time.

Cecilia would sometimes come to my room to keep me company, too, but the things she read aloud were usually novels that young ladies were interested in. While I had no objections to the Brontes or George Eliot, I drew the line at Jane Austen! I could only take so much of human social satire!

When she wasn't feeding me or reading to me, Cecilia was taking care of me: bringing fresh bed linens every day, fresh nightshirts, helping me with my morning wash (that was just face, arms, hands, and neck, thank goodness!), combing my hair, etc. Since my gloves were long gone she had plenty of time to examine my mark of contract and my demon-black nails and I was very surprised when she didn't comment on them. I knew she'd noticed them...was it possible that Augustus had told her what I was?

Wouldn't that scare a normal human girl? Shouldn't she have been cowering in fear of me rather than bossing me about the sickroom?

"Yes, Cecilia knows what you are," he said a few days later when I took the chance to ask him.

I tried to wrap my mind around this. "She does?" I thought about it. "Does she know what you are?"

He nodded. "She's known for some years now."

I kept my mouth shut. If I said what I was thinking...

"To her, I am still 'Papa.' It doesn't matter to her what I am, I am still the father who raised her and loves her. Your master is a child and he isn't frightened of you, so why sould Cecilia be afraid of me?"

"My master knows that the contract keeps me from devouring him," I reminded him. "Do you have a contract with Cecilia?"

"Certainly not," he said lightly. "One isn't needed. I regard her as my child. Oh, speaking of your young master..."

Just like that, I was worried. "What happened?"

"He ran away. Mrs. Partridge spotted him on her way back from town and brought him back."

"Is he all right?"

"Perfectly fine," he assured me. "He's being punished right now."

I knew that my young master would not be taking this well. "Punished how?"

"Not to worry," he said, giving my hand a pat. "It's nothing too bad; he's just confined to one of the guest rooms for the next week."

Panic rose up and nearly strangled me. "You've locked him up?"

He stared at me, surprised. "No! Not at all, good heavens! There's no need to shout, Sebastian. No, his door is not locked. He understands that the only other room he's allowed to go to is the bathroom. Don't worry."

I was worried. Very, very worried. He wouldn't take such confinement well, even if the door was unlocked. He would be irritable at first and then he would become depressed and that depression...I didn't want to think about it.

"I do have some good news. A lady friend of mine will be visiting, and I'm anxious to have her meet Ciel."

Great. Just great. Now I was REALLY worried.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sebastian's POV:

I wondered what I'd ever done to deserve this. I was very weak, none of my powers were any use at all, and I had a devoted nurse who was the very embodiment of a plague. The redoubtable Florence Nightingale would meet her match in this girl. I had thought that Augustus had been an attentive caregiver but this human girl gave a whole new meaning to the term "nurse." Dictionaries across England were being rewritten at the moment, I just knew it. Under "nurse" they would print "Cecilia Caldwell."

Cecilia had taken over my care entirely. _In every way._ I spent half of my time being mortified because she insisted a daily wash and change of attire were necessary for me. Oh, the ignominy of being given a sponge bath by a human girl! There were absolutely no words in any language for the humiliation I was being forced to endure!

Augustus thought it all highly amusing, of course. He thought Cecilia's nursing propensities were "precious" and seeing her fuss over me was "adorable." My embarrassment, apparently, did not mean a thing to him.

"Do you have any complaints about her care of you?" he asked the one time I tried to protest to him.

"I'm absolutely mortified," I explained. "I mean, a young girl should not be caring for a fully-grown man!"

"Has she been negligent in her work?" he asked.

"No," I admitted. "But..."

"Then why are you complaining? She's doing very well!"

"That's not the problem!" I almost wailed. "Every day she's helping me change my clothes and bathe and...!"

"Oh. That?" he said, finally getting a glimmer of what I was driving at. "That's what's bothering you?"

"Yes!" By this point, I was wailing.

"Don't let it worry you," he said blithely. "Just think of her as an ordinary nurse."

"Which I've never really needed before in my lifetime," I said flatly.

Cecilia arrived shortly after that to help me wash and change into a fresh nightshirt, but before she could begin her reign of terror, Augustus stopped her.

"Just a moment, my dear," he said, approaching my bed with an odd look on my face.

"What is it?" I asked, beginning to be concerned. Why was he looking at me like that?

"This will help you relax," he said, his voice dropping in tone and his eyes locking with mine.

Immediately, before I could look away, I relaxed. My arms and legs went limp, my heartbeat and breathing slowed and all of my fears and worries dissipated just as quickly. In one short moment, I became a living rag doll. Indeed, it was as if I had no more volition than a child's plaything since it had suddenly gone beyond me to move on my own or speak. Cecilia undressed me, washed me, dressed me, and tucked me in again and I could work up no more worry about it than I could convince Augustus to listen to me. Cecilia left and returned with a tray and while Augustus held me in a sitting position, she fed me. I was glad that I could still chew and swallow on my own, but that was small comfort in the current situation. I knew I should be panicking about what had just happened to me, but I could not. All I could do was let them do with me as they wished.

"Well done, Sebastian," Augustus complimented me after they'd finished feeding me. "Ah, if only you were so tractable and quiet all the time."

"If he were always this good, I would be worried," Cecilia stated, washing my face and hands with a damp cloth. "What did you do to him, Papa?"

"I simply forced my will on him," Augustus said, causing me to panic...or not-panic...even more. At any rate, I was concerned.

"Forced your will?"

"Regular demons have something similar. They call it thrall, but forcing my will on him is a bit different. It forces him to relax and give in to me. I think it's very useful."

If his tone became any more smug, I might have to take drastic action. Murder came to mind.

"Well, if he becomes difficult, I'll call you," Cecilia said with a smile. "Now, could you let him...have his own will back? I need him to be able to answer me."

Just like that, with no outward sign or shift in my body, I was able to talk. "What...please don't do that again!" All of my worry and yes, my fear, had come flooding back. I knew that if I became any more frightened, I would start shaking.

"I won't do it unless you force me to," Augustus told me, smoothing my hair. "Now, you behave for Cecilia, all right?"

I felt very meek as I nodded. I would do whatever it took to keep him from doing that to me again. I'd thought thrall under Marcellus had been bad, but this had been infinitely worse! I lacked the words to even think about it clearly, let alone describe it!

"There's a good child," Augustus said. "I'll see you later."

Cecilia started chattering immediately after that, asking me questions about how I was feeling. She told me about certain exercises her Papa had told her about and she thought it would be a good idea if she started them with me today. For the next hour or so she helped me lift, bend, and stretch my limbs, helped me sit up and lie supine again, and it all ended with being settled in a sitting position in bed with a book for my reward. Augustus was not there, so I took this chance to speak to her. I needed more information, if only for my safety, let alone my master's. "Miss Caldwell..."

"Oh, call me Cecilia," she offered. "Everyone does."

"Very well, Cecilia," I said. "Could we talk a bit?"

"If you like," she said. "What did you want to talk about?"

"How long have you known that your father is an elemental demon?"

"Oh, years," she admitted. "He married my mother when I was little, but I could remember thinking that there was something a little strange about him even before the wedding."

"Did you figure out what he was or did he tell you?" I asked.

"A little of both," she told me. "I'd noticed how fast he could move sometimes, how well he seemed to hear and see things, his strong sense of smell, and other things like that. I thought he was a wizard or something like it, so one evening, after Mamma had gone to bed I confronted him about it. I was eight, marched up to him, and demanded to know if he was really a wizard. He laughed and said that he wasn't a wizard and that I was a sharp little thing. That was when he told me he was an elemental. I didn't realize that it was a type of demon until later."

"And you're not afraid of him?"

"Why should I be?" she wanted to know. "He's Papa, not some monster."

How could I explain this to her? Well, perhaps she wouldn't listen. Best not to waste my energy making the effort. "And you know what I am."

"Of course," she said. "Papa told me. You're a demon. A demon is not as powerful as an elemental."

This put a new perspective on her care of me. "Did you ever think I was human?" I was thinking of those countless meals that had been such a trial for me.

"Oh, no. Papa told me what you were as soon as he found you."

"If you knew I was a demon, then why did you bring me meal after meal of human food?" I still couldn't understand it. If she'd known my true nature, why had she brought all of those dishes for me to eat?

"Papa did tell me that you'd need to be fed, but he took his time telling me what would best nourish you," she said, sounding a bit put-out.

I was at some emotion beyond anger. That...that..._creature_ had been making fun of me; I was sure of it! I was sure that he found it oh, so amusing to watch me suffering due to all those meals! Once I got my health back, I would do everything in my power to slaughter him. Suicidal? With him being so much more powerful, of course it was, but I wasn't about to let that stop me. There _had_ to be some way for me to get out of here and meet him on equal terms. Any encounter would be short and violent and most likely deadly, but I had my dignity and my master to think about. A very human feeling overcame me then, actually surprising me. Perhaps it was a remnant of my recent time as a human, but the feeling was strong and it would not be ignored. This elemental could not keep us prisoner forever. My determination and the stronger, human determination of my master would ensure that the both of us would escape and of course, gain our revenge.

Ciel's POV:

Aside from the books and drawing materials I'd brought with me, I had little distraction from boredom. During the day the floor where I was staying was so quiet that there were times when I was convinced that I was the only one left in the house. Occasionally I would hear the other children when they were outside, but mostly, it was quiet. Miss Anderson came up once a day to check the progress on my lessons and Mrs. Partridge or Jim would bring up my meals, but mostly, it was quiet.

Very, very quiet.

I kept myself to a routine just to keep myself from going mad. In the mornings, after breakfast, I did the lessons Miss Anderson assigned and reviewed them to make sure they were correct. Checking them took up time, so I was happy to do it. By the time I finished, it was usually time for lunch. After lunch, I indulged myself in a nap. I'd found an alarm clock in the nightstand and so I usually set it for an hour or so. After my nap, I had an afternoon wash in the bathroom, and then it was time for tea. Once tea was over I would read or sketch, and then after that was dinner. After dinner, I would check my lessons again and usually (when I managed to bore myself enough) I was ready for bed by then.

My meals continued to be bland. They still felt that I was suffering from a nervous stomach, so I received the blandest and most easily-digestible food Mrs. Partridge could make. I received soups, bread, milk, and puddings so much that most of it all began to taste alike. That put me off my food even more, which led to even blander things being sent up. The issue was resolved by the fourth day, when I complained to Jim about how everything was so boring and tasted alike. After that, Mrs. Partridge began to send up more savory fare, lightly seasoned and well-prepared. It wasn't Sebastian's cooking, but it tasted good and I went to bed that night feeling much better for having had a proper meal.

The quiet and isolation weren't the only things making this difficult to bear. The other thing was Mr. Caldwell. He came at least once a day, usually to talk about how proud he was of me for accepting my punishment for what I'd done. By the second day I was sick and tired of hearing about it...this was the real punishment, it seemed, being plagued to death.

By the third day, I'd had enough. "You don't have to keep on about it, you know."

"I mean every word I say," Mr. Caldwell said. "I am very proud of you."

"It's not important. Why can't you let me be instead of talking about it all the time?"

"I'm not talking about it all the time," he pointed out. "Just a little bit, that's all."

I gave up. I wasn't going to get anywhere by arguing with him.

He usually came in the afternoon, after my nap and before my tea, but on the fifth day, he didn't come at his usual time. He still wasn't there by tea time, nor by dinner time, and I went to bed that night wondering what had happened. When Jim brought my breakfast the next morning, I asked him where Mr. Caldwell had gone.

He smiled. "His lady friend arrived yesterday."

"Lady friend?" I could remember Cecilia mentioning her at some point.

Jim nodded. "Oh, yes. She's very nice and all of yesterday she was introducing herself to the children. She'll be staying here from now on and from what I can tell, all of the children just adore her. You'll be meeting her later today, most likely."

I'd almost forgotten the lady's promised visit by teatime, which was when Mr. Caldwell and the promised lady showed up, bringing enough tea for all of us. The lady acquainted herself with me while Mr. Caldwell set the table and I was wishing to disappear on the spot.

"It's so good to see you again, Ciel," Miss Alyssa Villefort said, taking my limp hand in hers and bobbing it up and down. "How are you?"

I glanced at Mr. Caldwell. "Ah...I'm fine, Miss Villefort," I managed through the panic. "And you?"

"Perfectly fine," she said, leading me to my seat for the meal. "I have to confess, though, I'm very surprised to find you here. Aren't you supposed to be at the Phantomhive manor?"

Damn. Well, my cover had already been irrevocably blown, but now it was blown clear out of the water and up into orbit. Practically everyone in society knew the Phantomhive name. I could have gotten away with the change of name to "Ciel" if she hadn't mentioned "Phantomhive."

Oddly, Mr. Caldwell did not seem surprised. I watched him while Miss Villefort poured tea for all of us and realized something. "You knew who I was the whole time."

He smiled. "Yes. A boy wearing an eyepatch, accompanied by a slim man with dark hair; who else could you be? Your Sebastian is quite an actor, youngster. He had my men entirely convinced that he was a drunken dustman."

"If you knew who I was and that it had all been an act, then why was I brought here?" I demanded, getting to my feet. "Why didn't you send me home?"

"I'm sorry, I thought you were investigating the disappearances of children for the Queen," Mr. Caldwell said, depositing a sandwich on my plate. "If we allowed you to return home, you would make your report and then we would all be in quite a bit of trouble with Her Majesty."

Who was this man and how did he know exactly what I did for Her Majesty? Once again I wondered if he was reading my mind. I sighed. First things first. "Have you seen Sebastian?"

Mr. Caldwell smiled. "Yes."

"Where is he?" I was on my feet again.

"I don't think I'll tell you."

I found myself staring at him. "Why?"

"If I told you, then you would go running off and then we'd never see you again," he said lightly.

"But you know where he is?"

"Yes."

"Why won't you tell me? I want to see him!"

"He is fine."

I could tell that my doubt was showing on my face.

"He really is fine," he hastened to assure me. "Cecilia and I have been watching after him and right now Cecilia's keeping him company. He's fine."

"Sebastian always comes when I need him," I said calmly. "How have you been keeping him away from me?"

Miss Villefort chuckled. "It's funny when you think about it. Augustus here knows all about wards and things to keep a place safe, and it looks like your Sebastian ran afoul of them."

I started to panic. This woman...it sounded like she knew a great deal about...well, things no woman in society should know about. Spiritualism and such things had been popular for the last few years, but they weren't widely accepted. How much did she know about Sebastian? "Wards?" I said, hoping for an explanation.

"They're like shields that one can erect around a place to keep unwanted visitors out," Augustus said. "I didn't want anyone...unsuitable...coming into this place. I have to protect you children, after all."

I was quiet, my mind working furiously. How much did he know about Sebastian? Did he know he was a demon?

I didn't get my answers. Whenever I approached the topic, I received more assurances that Sebastian was fine. Yes, he was fine. No, he was in no danger due to the wards. No, I wasn't allowed to see him and no, I would not be told where he was.

"But WHY?" I demanded. "I don't understand why you won't tell me where he is!"

"What would you do if I told you?" Mr. Caldwell asked. "No, don't answer. I already know. You would go to where he was. I don't wish you to do that, so I won't tell you. It's as simple as that, Ciel. When I feel that it's a good time for you to see him, I'll take you to him myself. Until then, you'll just have to wait."

Oh, he was infuriating! Somehow, I vowed, I would get even with him over this!

"Once you've finished your week up here, I'm sure you'll be glad to get back to the others," Mr. Caldwell told me. "Cecilia has missed you."

"I have to admit that I've missed her, too," I confessed, trying to stifle my murderous impulses for the moment. After all, a gentleman had to be a perfect gentleman in any situation, no matter how maddening. As I'd heard my father say once, the mark of a true gentleman was remaining polite no matter how crazy other people were making you. "How are her roses doing?"

"They're just fine."

There was plenty more of conversation like that, and then Mr. Caldwell and Miss Villefort took their leave, saying they would see me soon.

I did. I saw them the very next day, at tea time. There was more pointless talk about things that I didn't really care about. More statements of how Mr. Caldwell was proud of me for taking my punishment so well. "Today's the sixth day," he informed Miss Villefort. "He only has tomorrow to go and then he'll be able to go back downstairs."

"Oh, well done, Ciel!" Miss Villefort complimented me.

I shrugged. "It's nothing difficult," I said. "I have things to occupy my time."

"But haven't you missed the company of the other children?" Miss Villefort asked.

"Not really," I admitted. "I miss talking to Cecilia, but that's about it."

Mr. Caldwell put a slice of honey cake on my plate. "She asked me about you this morning," he said. "I told her that you were holding up well in your confinement and that you'd like to see her. Was that all right?"

"Perfectly," I said. "I wouldn't mind seeing her again. There's been something puzzling me, though, Miss Villefort. I know what all the adults here do within their organization, but what is your function?"

She laughed and turned to Mr. Caldwell. "Augustus, did you not tell him? Oh, silly man."

"So you do have a role to play?"

"Of course, little detective," she said, ruffling my hair. (I fought down an urge to throttle her.) "I act as...well, I suppose you could call me the spiritual advisor."

I took a sip of tea. "How so?"

"Alyssa's far too modest," Mr. Caldwell said. "Her title is 'Priestess'."

Now I was getting nervous. Was I in the clutches of some fanatic cult? Fanatics were always difficult to deal with and very, very dangerous. "Priestess?" I said, fighting for time to think. "Of what?"

"Of Sanctuary," she told me. "Sanctuary's purpose is to provide a safe haven for all children in distress and to help others see the holiness that resides in every child."

Oh, yes. That sounded like fanatic rhetoric to me. Wonderful. I would have to be very careful. "How did you discover such a thing?"

"It was a revelation I had one evening before I came back to England," she said. "It was late one night and I was in the garden, and I was thinking about all the children in misery here in England. There are all sorts of charities and organizations working to better the lot of children in India, but I haven't found as many here, so I began Sanctuary."

"How long has Sanctuary been functioning?" I asked.

"Still gathering information for the Queen?" Mr. Caldwell asked, giving me a wink.

"I doubt I'll be able to get away in order to report," I snapped. I didn't want to admit it, but the captivity was starting to make me...tetchy.

He smiled, a smile that reminded me a great deal of Sebastian's, sometimes. Just why it did, I didn't know, but it did. Whenever Sebastian got that look on his face I knew that I'd approached a border and that it was best for both of us if I stepped back. "I'm sorry," I said, considering my words carefully. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. You'd done nothing to deserve it and such an action was unworthy of a gentleman. I suppose being up here all week has made me a bit irritable."

Now the smile he gave me was entirely human smile with no hint of Sebastian in it at all. "I understand, Ciel. I'm surprised you haven't snapped at me before, to tell you the truth. Thank you for having the fortitude to realize when an apology was warranted."

Just like that, the moment passed. Talk turned to other matters and I wasn't able to return to my information-gathering attempt again. As a treat for me, I suppose, he and Miss Villefort remained with me and the three of us had supper together, and after supper they played a board game with me until it was time for me to go to bed.

I didn't see them the next day, which would be my final day of my confinement. I was thankful that my exile was almost over...enough time spent by oneself would drive any human creature mad. Things were fine until the time came for my afternoon nap. I had a bit of a headache when I lay down and it did not go away as I fell asleep. Instead, my head pounded even while I slept, and the dream that I began to have terrified me. Usually when I had a nightmare it was about my captivity or my parents' deaths or about strangers hurting me, but this dream...it was disturbing. I was in a church or temple somewhere, a place I didn't know. I was lying down on a cushioned altar and was covered with a snow-white comforter. There were candles everywhere and smoky incense made the air around me hazy. I turned my head and saw the pews filled with people, all of them whispering prayers. People in white robes moved up and down the aisle, swinging censers and chanting under their breath. I tried to move, to sit up and ask what was going on, but my body wouldn't obey me and my voice was dead in my throat.

A man in red robes approached me from behind the altar and suddenly, I was in the aisle, watching everything happen. I was still lying on the altar, but I could see myself as if I were standing in the aisle. I couldn't understand anything that was going on...I saw my head turn to stare at the man in red, and his hand came out and smoothed my hair. He leaned close and whispered something to me, but I heard it as easily as if I were still there next to him.

"It is all right, my child, do not be frightened," he said, his voice echoing in the air around the "me" on the altar. "Nothing is wrong."

Both the me on the altar and the me in the aisle gasped the same question. "Where am I?"

I could see the man smiling, but I couldn't see anything else of his face. "You are just where you should be," he said, his voice still echoing and making the air around me throb.

"What's going on?" both of us demanded. Neither of us could move.

"They are praying for your favor, and as soon as this ceremony is completed, then you will become our god," he said, a golden goblet suddenly appearing in his hand. "Drink."

"No!" I cried, but neither of my bodies would obey me. Neither the Ciel on the altar nor the Ciel in the aisle could move. I felt the cup press against my lips and liquid fire flowed into my mouth and...

...And I was awake, gasping for air and staring at the ceiling above me. I felt my mouth water and in the next moment I was hanging over the side of the bed, retching. My abdomen muscles contracted so much that I felt as if I were being torn in half. With each retch I was sick and by the time it was over I was shaking and exhausted and soaked with sweat. Not only that, but my head was still pounding and my joints were on fire. Oh, wonderful. I'd come down with something.

There was only one person I wanted to see while I was in this condition. Despite being a demon, Sebastian would help me through any illness and even see to my comfort, both physical and mental. He would actually comfort me if an illness worried or frightened me, and that was what I wanted now. "Seb...a...stian..." I moaned, my throat raw with retching. "Sebastian..."

Nothing. The bond between us would always draw him to me, whether I wanted him or not, but this time, it seemed, he wasn't about to come.

"Sebastian!" I said, raising my voice a little. "Sebastian!"

Nothing. My stomach clenched once more and I was sick again, leaving me feeling even worse. Once I'd stopped I took a deep breath and shouted.

"SEBASTIAN!"

Silence. Even the very air itself seemed to be listening for some sound that would tell me he was coming.

"SEBASTIAN! THIS IS AN ORDER! COME TO ME NOW!"

* * *

><p>Sebastian's POV:<p>

"SEBASTIAN! THIS IS AN ORDER! COME TO ME NOW!"

I surged up out of my cocoon of pillows and blankets and found myself on very unsteady feet. "Yes, my lord," I said, fighting to stay upright. "I am coming!"

Holding onto the bed, step by agonizing step, I made my way toward the door that Augustus and Cecilia always used. Since I was bedridden, they had not locked it, and for that I was deeply thankful. Behind it I found a very narrow staircase, leading upward. The bond that my master and I shared beckoned me up, so up I went. On the second step I collapsed. I didn't have the strength to walk the stairs, so I crawled. I would kneel on a step, put my hands on the next one, and pull myself up. Step by step, inch by inch, I made my way toward my master. Three landings and an eternity later, I reached the top of the stairs. I was in a plain hallway and from the way the ceilings peaked down the center of it, I could see that I was near the top of the house. The bond with my master urged me down the hall and I crept my way down it, my limbs and joints screaming with pain and begging me to stop. I would not stop, though. I passed empty bedrooms and approached the doors at the end. On my left was a bathroom but on my right the door was closed. I reached up, turned the knob, and there was my master. There was no color to his face, dark circles under his eyes, and puddle of vomit on the floor. I could smell the fever from the doorway.

"Sebastian!" he gasped.

I smiled. "Hello, young master." I crawled into the room and made my way to his bed. I pulled myself up and in the next moment, he was in my arms, sobbing.

"It will be all right, Bocchan," I said, feeling fondness well up in my chest. "It will be all right." My arms tightened around him and my hands made soothing circles on his back. That usually relaxed him.

"Don't let this go to your head, but I missed you," he said, sniffling.

I smiled. "I missed you, too, young master."

A creak from the doorway made us both look up. Augustus stood there, his eyes glowing with rage. "Well, haven't you two been naughty children?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ciel's POV:

Sebastian's arms tightened around me and he drew me even closer to him as we both stared at the man standing in the doorway. It was Mr. Caldwell, yes, but…his eyes were glowing. Was he a demon? "Sebastian," I said, locking my hands around one of Sebastian's arms. "What is he?"

"Elemental," Sebastian said. I could actually feel him trembling.

"What's an elemental?" I gasped, frightened. Sebastian was afraid. _Sebastian_ was afraid!

"Since a demon is infinitely more powerful than a human, an elemental is infinitely more powerful than a demon," Mr. Caldwell said, coming into the room. His eyes were still glowing and the smile on his face…I didn't want to know what he was thinking. Anything that made him smile like that was something I really didn't want to know. "To a demon, I am a demon. Sebastian, I thought you were told to stay in bed?"

Sebastian flinched at his tone. It was quiet, but so intense that a shout would have seemed quieter. "Yes," he whispered, still holding me.

"If that's the case, then what are you doing here?"

"I called him," I said quickly. "He had to obey. The contract demanded it."

"Oh, did it, now?" Mr. Caldwell said, looking the two of us over. "Hmm, I can see that it did. How troublesome." He reached out and took hold of Sebastian's hair. "This contract of yours…so very troublesome, Sebastian. What shall I do with the two of you?"

"Please," Sebastian gasped, wincing when Mr. Caldwell pulled his hair. "Please do not punish the young master! He…he didn't know that I was supposed to stay in bed!" If anything, Sebastian sounded even more afraid than I was!

Mr. Caldwell smiled and I shivered. "I told your young master that he would have to wait until I took him to see you, yet he called you. Such a bad child!"

Sebastian hugged me closer, making it almost difficult to breathe. Fear made my stomach turn again, and I twisted away from Sebastian just in time…

"This is why I don't want you to punish him," Sebastian said as soon as I'd finished being sick again. "He's ill. We have to take care of him."

Mr. Caldwell was still staring at me, staring at the vomit on the floor, and how close it had come to his shoes. "I see." He moved so quickly that I didn't realize what was happening until it had already happened. Suddenly I was sitting on Mr. Caldwell's hip and Sebastian was over his shoulder and we were being carried out of the room and down the hallway.

"Where are we going?" I demanded, still scared.

"The infirmary, youngster," Mr. Caldwell said, his eyes losing their glow as he headed down the stairs. "Hush, now."

"Ciel Phantomhive" and "obedient" did not belong in the same thought or sentence, yet, I was perfectly obedient until I was settled in a bed in the infirmary. The doctor and Mr. Caldwell had helped me change into a fresh nightshirt, I was allowed to rinse my mouth and brush my teeth, a drink was brought, and I was tucked into bed. I was beginning to feel more like myself, and I was profoundly grateful when Sebastian was tucked into the bed next to mine. With him there, I felt as if I could face anything that might happen.

"Augustus, who's this?" the doctor asked, looking at Sebastian.

"This is Stephen's Uncle Lewis."

Dr. Evans' eyes became hard. "What?"

"Our little Stephen and his friend there are very good actors," Mr. Caldwell continued. "Stephen is actually an investigator named Ciel Phantomhive and he was sent by the Queen to investigate us, and 'Uncle Lewis' is his faithful butler called 'Sebastian Michaelis.'"

The doctor stared at me, stared at Sebastian, and then back again. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Mr. Caldwell said. "Sebastian came here to retrieve his master, but he fell afoul of the wards I've set up."

Doctor Evans stared at him. "So they worked?"

"Did you doubt it?"

"A bit," the doctor admitted. "I've never seen anything like it, so…well, now I believe they work."

"I'm glad," Mr. Caldwell said. "Doctor, do you feel up to having these two in the infirmary?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," Doctor Evans said.

"Sebastian requires special care, so I'll see to that myself," Mr. Caldwell said. "I'll leave Ciel's care up to you entirely."

I couldn't believe it. Just like that, everything was set up. Doctor Evans went back to one of the shelves by his desk and Mr. Caldwell left.

"Where's he going?" I whispered to Sebastian.

"I don't know," he said, still sounding nervous.

I still couldn't believe that Sebastian was actually afraid. I'd known that Marcellus had made him significantly nervous and that on more than one occasion he'd intimidated him, but I couldn't believe that he was truly afraid. Nothing frightened Sebastian. Not thunderstorms or snakes or...wait, I was thinking like a human. What would a demon be afraid of? Someone more powerful. Hmm. "Sebastian?" I whispered, stealing a glance at him.

"Later," he whispered back.

Doctor Evans returned to our sides again. "All right, Ciel, what seems to be the trouble?" He paused and smiled at me. "Ciel _is_ your true name, right?"

I fought down the urge to hit him with a pillow. "Yes, that's my name. My stomach's upset, I have a fever, and my joints ache."

Doctor Evans nodded. "A few of the other children came down with that last week; it makes sense that it's still wandering around somewhere. How many times have you been sick?"

"Two."

After taking my temperature and examining me, Doctor Evans gave me a cup of willow tea to take my fever down. I hated willow tea since it was so bitter, but Doctor Evans stirred in a few teaspoonfuls of honey for me to make it more palatable. When his back was turned, Sebastian grabbed the honey jar and added some more for me.

"Thank you," I whispered. I could afford to be kind to my servant since he'd done me a kindness, I supposed.

"You're welcome."

I fell asleep soon after I finished the tea and woke up later to the rattle of dishes on a tray.

"Good to see you're awake," Doctor Evans said. "How are you feeling?"

I pulled the covers over my head. I wanted to go back to sleep.

Fwip! The covers were pulled off of my head and I scowled, more than ready to kill. "Can't I go back to sleep?"

"It's time you had something to eat," he said lightly, helping me sit up and wheeling a table into place so I could reach the tray. "I hope you're hungry."

Remembering what had happened to the last bit of food I'd had in my stomach, I shuddered. "Not really." I eyed the bowl of broth and the bread with some misgiving.

"It's been a few hours since you were sick, so it should be all right for you to try eating. Sebastian, Augustus will be bringing your meal later."

Sebastian nodded. "Thank you."

Doctor Evans went into his office then, leaving me with the admonition to try eating a little.

Immediately, I turned to Sebastian. "What can you tell me?" I demanded.

"His description of himself was accurate, young master," Sebastian whispered. "He's powerful enough to kill me with a brush of his fingers, just as easily as I could kill a human with a brush of mine."

"What can we do?" I asked, picking up a spoon and stirring the broth.

Sebastian gave a bleak chuckle. "For the first time, young master, there is nothing I can do. It is beyond me entirely."

I'd never thought I'd hear such a thing from Sebastian. I was used to hearing him say that he was able to handle anything, that he could accomplish anything, but I was hearing that he couldn't do anything in this situation. "You're the Phantomhive butler," I reminded him.

"It is with the deepest regret that I must say that I cannot do anything, young master."

He was serious. "I see."

Sebastian glanced at my tray. "You should eat that before it gets cold, young master."

I scowled at the food. I knew that if I put anything in my stomach, it wouldn't stay there, so why bother? I took a spoonful of broth, tore off a piece of bread, dipped it in the broth, and ate that. I waited. Nothing was happening, so possibly it was all right for me to eat. "He's more powerful than you," I said, returning to the most important matter at hand.

"Yes."

That simple word gave me all the answer I needed. "What can you tell me about him?"

"Only what I know," he said. "In the old days, humans worshiped them as gods. They're born very powerful, and for all the years they live, they add to that power. Compared to them, we demons have only a human's strength. They are much older than demons and much, much more powerful. Their natures are...complex." He stopped and looked pointedly at the tray.

I swallowed a few more spoonfuls of broth and took another bite of bread. "What do you mean their natures are complex?"

"Demon motivations are pretty much straightforward," he elaborated. "Human motivations are more complex, but elemental motivations...well, there's no fathoming them."

"And Mr. Caldwell?" I pressed. "What have you learned about him?"

Sebastian shivered. "I hesitate to say this, but I am afraid of him, young master."

"Just because he can kill you?"

"It goes beyond that," Sebastian insisted. "I can't read him at all, I can't predict what he's going to do, I don't know what he's planning, I don't know why he's keeping me here or what he wants or..."

Ever since our contract had been formed, I'd never seen Sebastian like this. He was always calm, cool, and collected. 'Panic' never approached him, and he was never, ever 'flustered.' Right now, he was so frightened that he was almost babbling.

"Calm down, man!" I snapped. "This isn't like you."

He fought for control and sighed. "I apologize, sir. I know this isn't like me."

"Can you take a guess as to what drives Mr. Caldwell?" I asked, hoping that Sebastian would use his brain and think. He'd spent a great deal more time with Mr. Caldwell, so he would have a better bet of figuring the man out.

Sebastian seemed to think about it. "I do know that he adores his daughter, Cecilia. For some reason, he's been living as a human."

I was glad Doctor Evans was in his office. He would have been mightily confused by our conversation at this point. "Why would a powerful being like an elemental live as a human?"

"That's the real question, isn't it?" Sebastian said thoughtfully. "He was even married to the girl's mother and interacted with their family and...to me, it doesn't really make sense, but if I had to guess, I'd say that he wanted to experience life as a human for a while."

"Why?"

"Humans live very fulfilling lives, sometimes," he admitted. "People love you, you love others, you have their companionship..."

"So...he was lonely?"

"Possibly."

I thought about this. A lonely elemental? "How many elementals are there?"

"They're rare," he told me. "Very, very rare. There are a large number of humans compared to demons and the same proportion holds true in relation to demons and elementals."

It looked like the lonely theory was the only one that would make sense at this point. Something occurred to me. It was a stretch, but it was possible. "Do you think he might have started this Sanctuary thing because he was lonely?"

"Possibly, young master, but right now we're only speculating. He could have done this for any reason."

I nodded and took a little more broth and bread. "What about you? Why is he keeping you here? Wouldn't he have killed you just to be done?"

He shuddered. I couldn't believe my eyes. The last time I'd seen him do that, he'd been human, and Grell had been talking about their wedding...

"He said that he's keeping me alive because I interest him," he explained.

"You interest him?"

"He said that I interest him because I live so easily among humans," Sebastian added. "I don't know why that should interest him, but it does."

I stirred the broth again and thought about it. "Hmmm. Well, that explains why he's keeping you here. Why is he so adamant in keeping me here? Why is he so devoted to taking care of human children?" I kept thinking. It was possible that all his time spent among humans may have made him fall into the habit of thinking like a human and so, he'd gained a deep regard for the safety of human children. Because the "safety" of the "charges" he kidnapped depended on no one from outside his wretched organization finding out about it, that might be why I was being kept there. Either that, or he was insisting on my remaining there simply because I was still a child.

"There's something I think might interest you, young master," Sebastian said suddenly.

"What is it?"

"Augustus, that is, Mr. Caldwell, knew your predecessor."

I stared at him. My mind refused to take it in. "He did?"

Sebastian nodded. "He told me so. I think he was as drawn to your father as I was drawn to you when you and I formed our contract."

I knew that Sebastian thought my soul was mouth-watering. There were times when I'd glanced at him and surprised him with the oddest look on his face...one that resembled yearning and was rather close to obsession... "Sebastian, did he...do you think he...?" I didn't want to think that a demon had swallowed my father's soul, even though that was the fate that awaited me.

"No, young master. He did not." He stopped and thought about it.

"What are you thinking?"

He glanced at me and seemed very reluctant to answer.

"Do I have to order you?"

"Order him to do what?"

I froze. Mr. Caldwell was back, and right behind him was Cecilia, who was carrying a tray.

"Ah, nothing," I said quickly. I had to get his mind off of our conversation. "Hello, Cecilia!"

"Hello, _Ciel_."

Uh-oh. She didn't sound happy to see me.

She set the tray down on a table and glared at me. "Why did you lie to me like that?"

"I was undercover!" I protested.

Her eyes narrowed. "Were you really my friend, or was that 'undercover' too?"

"I liked talking with you and I enjoyed your company, if that's what you mean," I answered. "I'm sorry I had to lie to you. I didn't like doing it, but I had to keep my real name and what I was doing here a secret."

"He's rather like Sherlock Holmes, isn't he?" Mr. Caldwell said brightly.

"That's not funny, Papa."

"So sorry, my dear."

Cecilia turned and looked at me again. "You're forgiven, since you were following someone else's orders, but don't you ever lie to me again. Understand?"

I was not used to dealing with ladies when they were angry. Elizabeth occasionally lost her temper with me, but she couldn't really be called angry...more annoyed than anything else, really. What was I supposed to do when a lady was angry with me? I would have to wing it, I supposed. "I understand," I told her. "I won't lie like that again."

She smiled and nodded. "Good." She turned to Sebastian. "I hope you're hungry, Sebastian."

Sebastian cringed, but he didn't say anything. While Cecilia and Mr. Caldwell served Sebastian his meal, I finished my own meal and did some serious thinking. The two of us were in trouble and we would have to find a way out of it. If we didn't...well, I didn't want to think about it.

* * *

><p>Sebastian's POV:<p>

I hugged my master even closer when I heard Augustus' voice. I had never been able to sense him coming, either by scent or sound, and now he had come once again without any warning. I didn't know what to do or even how to protect my young master from him. Yet again, I wished that Marcellus was there. I had the strong feeling that he might know what to do about an elemental.

The one thing that any demon fears is someone who is stronger. Augustus wasn't just stronger, he was strong enough to slaughter countless demons. He could crush my skull with just a touch of his hand. He could kill me, and then I wouldn't be able to protect my young master. My master would be entirely at Augustus' mercy, if he had any. Panic overwhelmed me and I could feel myself shivering. Oh, I hated this. I was the Phantomhive butler and a demon from an ancient, powerful line and here I was, acting like a frightened puppy!

I was surprised when Augustus took us both the the infirmary. Surprised, but very glad. A human doctor would examine my young master and make sure he received the care he needed. If he and I were in the infirmary, then Augustus couldn't do anything to "punish" the "two bad children" who'd disobeyed his orders. Sometimes the tone of his voice or a choice of words reminded me of Sir Charles, but of the two of them, Augustus was far, far more dangerous.

Augustus explained the young master's and my ruse to the doctor with only a few words and that was that. I was relieved when I heard that the young master's illness was not the first of its case in this house...if other people had had it, then that meant that the young master's illness was truly an illness rather than due to his nerves. Whenever he had an attack of nerves then he was usually ill for close to a week and weak and shaky for a few days afterwards. I'd nursed him through three fits of nerves since entering his service and through several periods of "edgy" feelings and a fit of nerves or edgy feelings were not what he needed right now. I was not in a condition to take care of anyone, either. Most frustrating, that. How could I be the perfect butler if I couldn't even get to my feet?

I pushed such thoughts away and fought to think about our situation. Perhaps with a human's thoughts in addition to mine, the young master and I might come up with a solution to our predicament. I had to be patient, however. Shortly after the doctor gave him a cup of tea to take his fever down, the young master fell asleep and he didn't wake up until a supper tray was brought for him. He seemed unenthusiastic about eating, but I coaxed him while we began our discussion. He and I talked and speculated about Augustus' motivations for keeping the both of us. (If we understood his motivations then we might have a chance of predicting his next actions.) I did give him the information I'd managed to glean from my talks with Augustus. I could tell that the fact that Augustus had known his father upset him. He knew that one day I would swallow his soul, but he didn't wish that fate for anyone he cared about. I reassured him on that score, but he guessed that I'd been worrying about that ever since Augustus had told me. A demon didn't necessarily have to eat someone's soul in order to enjoy it...they could just take a taste...

My worries must have given away too much of how I was feeling, because the young master picked up on them. He could tell that something about it still bothered me and he was on the verge of ordering me to tell what I knew when Augustus arrived along with Cecilia. Saved by the madman and the rabid nurse...oh, how ironic.

I did not want to eat. There was bone marrow soup with a healthy helping of elemental blood and some bread made with foxglove and I wanted none of it. Still, I knew better than to say so. I fought to swallow each spoonful and each bite and finally, at last, it was gone.

"Very good, Sebastian," Cecilia said, removing the now-empty tray. "You feel better now that you've eaten, right?"

My throat was still burning from the amount of blood that had been in my soup and I fought to be polite. (I had a sneaking suspicion that Augustus had put that much in my soup just to punish me.) "I'm certainly revived."

"Glad to hear it," she said. "I'll be back in a little bit to settle you for the evening, all right?"

'Settle for the evening' meant she would help me wash and change. In the infirmary, and with the young master in the same room. Oh, my bruised and battered dignity.

"I've done quite a bit of thinking over the last few hours," Augustus said quietly, taking a seat. "Why did both of you disobey me?"

"I'm sorry, but I must obey my master," I said. "I have a contract with him."

He nodded, as if I'd given him the answer he'd expected. "Ciel, why didn't you wait until I took you to see Sebastian like I told you to?"

I could tell that the young master wanted to demand what business it was of Augustus'. I could see all of his old stubbornness starting to come back. He was wondering just who this man thought he was to demand an explanation, but...Augustus was an elemental. There was nothing I could do in this situation to protect him or tip the scales in our favor, so the young master would have to tread carefully with his answer.

"I felt so sick when I woke up," he said quietly. "Usually when I feel that way at home, Sebastian's the only one who can make me feel better."

Augustus was thinking about what he'd said. At last, he nodded. "I see."

"Don't punish Sebastian," the young master pleaded, surprising me. I knew that humans came to care for those around them, but did he actually care for me so much?

"And why not? He disobeyed me."

"But I didn't give him any choice! I gave him an order."

"So aren't you at fault for issuing an order?"

Not good! I wanted the young master punished as much as he wanted me to be punished. "The young master's ill," I protested. "He needs to rest and get better, not endure a punishment!"

Augustus looked from me to the young master and back. "Both of you are acting as if I'm about to beat the living daylights out of you! Honestly!"

I glanced at the young master just as he glanced at me. Did we really give that impression? True, Augustus was frightening, but...

"I'm not about to beat two children just because of a little disobedience," he said at last.

"Sebastian's not a child," my master reminded him.

Augustus flicked his eyes at me and smiled. "Compared to me, he's a child."

Wonderful. I was back to being a "child." Was there _no_ justice in this world?

"I think you've both been punished enough with worry over the past few hours," Augustus said. "I have to admit, your own fears were far more effective than anything I could have thought up on my own."

The irony of this was just sickening. We'd punished ourselves. Augustus hadn't had to do a thing.

"If the two of you promise to behave, that is, if you promise to stay in bed and_ rest_, then I'll allow you to stay together. Do you agree?"

We couldn't agree fast enough, it seemed. We both promised at the same time, which made Augustus chuckle.

No, there was no justice in this world. Not only was I a "child," I was amusing, to boot!

"I'll warn you both right now," he said suddenly, surprising both of us. "Any misbehavior on your parts, from either of you, will mean consequences. Do you understand?"

Oh, we understood. We hastened to assure him of that. That only made him laugh again.

"Now, is there anything you want to ask me?" he asked.

I wished that he hadn't asked that.

"Sebastian told me that you knew my father," my young master said darkly.

Augustus smiled and for a moment, his eyes glowed. "I did."

The momentary appearance of his true nature didn't faze my young master. "Was he one of your meals?"

I'd always known that my young master was brave and fearless, but I hadn't known he was so...so...reckless! It was one thing for me to ask the question but quite another thing for a human to ask it! Did he have no sense of survival?

Augustus threw his head back and laughed, surprising both of us. "One of my meals? Now, why should I wish to swallow his soul when I could admire it where it was?"

That surprised both of us. My jaw actually dropped and I stared at him. "Forgive me, but don't you have to eat?" If he didn't eat souls, what on earth did he eat?

"I do, but I wasn't about to eat Vincent's soul, even though it would have been delectable," he continued. "No, it was much better to leave Vincent as he was. I was very saddened to hear about his death, Ciel. He was captivating."

My master didn't say anything for a moment, but I could tell he was thinking. "Captivating? What on earth do you mean?"

Augustus shifted in his seat and reached out to smooth my master's hair. "There's a quality that some humans have that draw others to them. These humans can be beautiful or ugly, young or old, but that quality will always shine through. It is rare, though. It is so rare that it does not have a name. Your father possessed it, and it looks like you have inherited it. Invariably, humans who have such a quality have very rare and delicious souls."

My young master considered this, but he said nothing. I could tell that he was fighting to absorb what he'd been told.

"I have to confess, I did take a taste," Agustus said idly.

I nearly fell out of bed. A _taste_? It was possible for demons to taste a human's soul without eating the soul, but it was something very delicate. Also, you had to have a human's permission to do it. How on earth had he managed _that_?

"WHAT?" my master barked.

Augustus laughed again. "Just a little one, I promise. Your father and I were at a party and he had a bit too much champagne. When I asked his permission to have a taste, he agreed. I think he enjoyed it."

My master was staring at Augustus as if he wasn't quite sure if what he was seeing was real. "I don't think I want to know. I really don't...I mean, what do I say to something like that? Thank you for not devouring him?"

"There's not anything you need to say, Ciel," he answered. "I didn't hurt him and he didn't even remember it, so there's nothing you need to worry about."

My master absorbed this and seemed to shake it off. "Mr. Caldwell, I'd like to ask you something different."

"Yes?"

"What are your plans for Sebastian and I?"

He smiled again. "You'll stay here, of course."

"Why?"

"Because I want you both to stay," he said. "I think your father might be glad that I'm watching after you, and of course, I wish Sebastian to stay."

"Why do you wish Sebastian to stay?" my master wanted to know. "He isn't a child. I thought you only wanted to take in children."

"Do you remember what I told you about that unique quality that some humans have? It's even rarer in demons, but against all odds, Sebastian has it. I want to keep him with me. He's quite captivated me."

My master glanced at me and looked concerned while I tried not to die of embarrassment. Of all things, why had he had to say _that_?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Ciel's POV:

In some ways, it was a relief to be in the infirmary rather than upstairs in a room by myself or in the room I shared with some of the other boys. While the infirmary was a busy place, it was a peaceful kind of busy, if that made any sense. I could lie in my bed and let all the activity go on around me and not take any notice of it. It was nice to have company for a change and it was nice to hear people talking. The quiet on the top floor had about driven me nuts.

It was even nicer to be with Sebastian again. I didn't want to admit it (and I certainly wouldn't admit it to _him_!) but I'd missed him. After several years of having him in my service I'd gotten used to having him around. He'd once told me that it was a curious human thing that we humans would develop a regard for those around us despite any circumstances. It didn't matter if the people around us hurt us or not, if they were the only other people around, then those were the people with which we would bond. As a demon he couldn't understand it, but as a human, I could. Even though I knew that one day he would swallow my soul, I still cared about him. His absence had depressed me more than I wanted to confess.

I cared about him, yes, but I was also starting to worry. If he'd been human I would have said that he was coming down with something. His face was pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he was clearly thinner. Mr. Caldwell had said something about there being wards and Sebastian had run afoul of them, but shouldn't he have been a _bit_ better by now?

Our days in the infirmary had a pattern. Usually Doctor Evans would wake me in the morning, help me wash, dress me in a fresh nightshirt, take my temperature and examine me, and then I would be settled back in bed in time for breakfast. Once I'd eaten Mr. Caldwell and Cecilia would arrive for Sebastain's morning wash and breakfast. While my breakfast was usually tasty and something I enjoyed, I don't think Sebastian enjoyed his. More than once I saw him wince at the taste. What was so bad about the soups and the milk concoction they were making him drink, anyway?

Once the two of us were washed and fed, we were left to our own devices for the morning. Occasionally I would get a bit of studying in or do some reading, but mostly I wanted to rest. Doctor Evans surprised me with a phonograph and some records one day and I spent a blissful morning listening to Schubert. Lunch would separate the morning and afternoon, and after lunch I usually had a short rest. More than once I caught Sebastian having a nap, which surprised me more than anything else. I knew that demons occasionally enjoyed sleep as a luxury, but it seemed as if he _needed_ the sleep. Interesting.

During the afternoons the doctor would help the both of us to chairs for a while so we could sit at a table and play games or talk. Chess, of course, was a game we played, as was cards, solitaire, backgammon...We kept busy as much as possible. It wasn't long before Doctor Evans began giving us small jobs that we could do while sitting at the table, like arranging papers, putting supplies into boxes, folding linens, etc. I didn't mind the tasks he gave us. Being able to move, even just a little, made me feel much better.

Before dinner came exercise. My illness had left me feeling very weak and the doctor told me that all the stress I'd been under and the difficulties I'd been having with food had all taken their toll on me. He said that I looked more like I'd been ill a month rather than just a few days. There were exercises that he'd guide me through every day, helping me walk down the room, bend, straighten, and lift my limbs, sit up and lie down, and so on. I usually felt a bit better after finishing them but I was also bone tired.

Seeing Sebastian perform them, however, was frightening. He seemed so weak! Even if he was doing the exercises that required him to be on his back he panted with the effort, sitting up was difficult, and when he walked his entire body shook. Seeing him that way, I wondered HOW on earth he had managed to make it up all those steps to the attic where I'd been.

I found myself with a new-found respect for the strength of our contract.

After dinner it was time for our baths. I refused to have anyone see me naked, so after promising that I would call him if I needed help, Doctor Evans allowed me to have my bath by myself. The infirmary had its own bathroom (for which I was thankful, I could have total privacy!) and I always had a bath every night. After my bath I would get another fresh night shirt and then Mr. Caldwell would show up for Sebastian's bath. He would help Sebastian in and out of the tub and to wash and dry off and dress. More than once Mr. Caldwell had to carry Sebastian back to bed.

I didn't get the chance to talk to Sebastian about Mr. Caldwell's elemental status. Sebastian and I didn't have much chance to talk about anything, really. During the day Doctor Evans was there and at night Sebastian and I were usually sleeping, even if we tried to stay awake long enough to talk. Often, if Doctor Evans stepped out during the day, either Sebastian or I would be asleep. Mostly, it was Sebastian who would be deep in a nap and no matter how I tried to wake him, he would just keep on sleeping. I knew that he was ill and exhausted, but we had to talk and make plans sometime!

"It's useless, Ciel," Mr. Caldwell said once, surprising me so much that I almost toppled out of bed.

"What's useless?" I asked, trying to pretend that I'd been doing nothing. Why did he have to pop out of nowhere like that? It was so annoying, not to mention startling!

"Trying to wake him," he said, coming in to sit by my bed. "When he sleeps like that, then that means that his body is trying to heal itself. He won't wake up until he's truly ready to wake up."

I looked at Sebastian and thought about it. "He's been sleeping like this a lot. Is this normal?"

He knew what I was asking. "No. I'm beginning to be quite concerned."

Immediately I felt panic begin to rise. What if Sebastian was so sick that he'd _die_? He _couldn't_ die! "Will he be all right?" For his sake, I hoped the answer was a positive one.

"I wouldn't worry," he said, rising from his seat. "There are things that can be done to help an ailing demon back to health and I've by no means exhausted such measures. Sebastian has the right idea, Ciel. Why don't you have a nap? You'll be woken in time for lunch."

When Sebastian wanted me to sleep, he would put a hand on my forehead or cover my eyes and will me into sleep, as he put it. With Mr. Caldwell, it seemed words were enough. Between one moment and the next, I was asleep.

* * *

><p>Sebastian's POV:<p>

I had never felt so sick in my life. Even when I'd been a human and I'd caught that human illness I'd never felt like this. EVER. I was so weak that I had trouble just sitting up or walking! I kept falling asleep and pretty much all I did was lay in bed. If I pushed myself I could attend to the small tasks that the doctor gave the young master and I could play games or read, but that was all the endurance I had. If the thought "I'm tired," ever crossed my mind, I would be asleep before the thought left my mind.

It was so irksome, there was no emotion sufficient for how I felt.

Even more annoying was the number of times Augustus visited us in the infirmary. If the doctor wasn't there, then he was. If neither of them were there, I was usually asleep! I had never slept this much in my life! How were the young master and I to formulate a plan for escape when I couldn't keep my eyes open for longer than a few hours at a time?

Bleak. All was bleak.

I had a strong suspicion that this was how humans felt when they'd been truly ill. Perhaps this was how they felt when they were in a "decline." I knew from many long years of being around humans, going "into decline" was bad. Could this be what was happening to me? I'd made some small improvement during my stay, but any improvement I'd made was now slipping away from me. I could feel myself getting weaker...each day I felt less able to do anything and doing _anything_ was an effort. Was I dying?

I rarely let myself fall into such thoughts. I had the young master to think about. I had to encourage him to eat, encourage him to rest, and keep him amused. Even though I was ill, even though I was weak, what sort of butler would I have been to let such things stand in my way?

It was a relief, though, to see my young master slowly improve. His color was coming back, he slept well, and slowly, by infinitesimal degrees, his appetite began to come back. At each meal he ate a little more and after each nap or night of sleep he seemed better-rested. Now, if only I could get his worried expression to go away...As days went by it became a little worse and that wouldn't do at all...

* * *

><p>Ciel's POV:<p>

I had never seen Sebastian look like this. After a week in the infirmary, I was feeling much better, but he looked so terrible that I was beginning to feel scared. He had no color in his face, the shadows under his eyes were far more pronounced, and he seemed to have no strength left at all. He began sleeping more and while he ate, he seemed to only eat when forced to. One afternoon while Sebastian was asleep I begged (yes, BEGGED) Mr. Caldwell to do something.

"What's wrong with Sebastian?" I demanded as soon as he walked in the door.

"What's wrong?" he echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Look at him!" I ordered. "He looks terrible! There's something very, very wrong with him! Do something!"

Mr. Caldwell looked and he nodded. "I agree that he doesn't look well, but what would you have me do?"

He sounded far too flippant for me to remain calm. "You're an elemental!" I argued with him. "You have to know what to do for him if you're such a powerful being and so much older and...!"

"And I will," he promised, ruffling my hair. "Don't worry, I know how to remedy this, but it's not time for it yet."

"But he's dying!" I snarled. "Can't you see that?"

Mr. Caldwell looked at him and sighed.

"You don't even care!" I accused him. "What do you want, for him to die so you won't be troubled with him anymore? For him to die so there's no chance I'll get away from you?"

"You sound as if you don't want him to die," Mr. Caldwell said.

"I DON'T!" I shouted. Sebastian was so deeply asleep that I was sure I wouldn't wake him.

"And why not?" Mr. Caldwell wanted to know. "Do you really want your soul eaten, Ciel?"

"Sebastian has been a devoted servant," I said, mustering what dignity I could. "He has given his best effort at all times and he has accomplished tasks that no mere human could do. Even when it wasn't required of him, he saw to my comfort and happiness as well as he could. For those reasons alone, I would give him my soul if he wanted it. When he has finished the task that the two of us have begun and I gain my revenge, he will have more than earned my soul."

"So the only reason you don't want him to die is so he can eat your soul?" Mr. Caldwell said, sounding rather surprised. "Is that all?"

"No," I admitted. "I don't want him to die. That's all."

"And why not?" he asked. "After all, you're his prey. Why wouldn't you want the demon thirsting for your soul to die?"

"Why won't you leave it alone?" I snapped.

"Would you miss him, Ciel?" he asked quietly. I almost didn't hear him. "Would you look for his face, listen for his footstep, strain to hear his voice, if he isn't there?"

The mental images those questions raised burned my mind's eye just as tears burned my physical eyes. "Yes!" I gasped. "I don't care that he's a demon! I don't want to lose Sebastian! He's...he's too important to me! I care for him just as much as I would a human!" It was one thing that I'd never wanted to admit to myself, let alone to someone else, but I'd said it. Even as I said the words, I realized they were true. I would miss him. I didn't want to lose him. The thought of losing him was too painful for me to contemplate.

Mr. Caldwell smiled, a soft, sad smile that surprised me into silence. "Then I shall do my best to save him," he said softly, ruffling my hair again. "But we have to wait until it's time in order for Sebastian to gain as much benefit from it as possible, all right?"

"When will it be time?" I pressed. I still hadn't recovered my equanimity and my impatience was too great to keep quiet on this issue.

"Not long," he told me. "I may need your help. Would you be willing to help me, Ciel?"

This could be dangerous for me. I was willing to do whatever it took to help Sebastian, of course, but not if it required me to put myself in danger. Sebastian wouldn't thank me for that at all. A hungry demon could be a cranky demon and a demon who lost his chance of dinner would be...I didn't really want to think about that. Even if I did something that got me killed, Sebastian would find me and get revenge. Of that, I could be sure. "What would I have to do?"

"You would have to help me make a medicine for Sebastian," he said. "That's all."

"That's all?" Images of grinding herbs and mixing magic potions filled my head. "Is it difficult?"

"No, your part will be easy," he told me. "Cecilia will be helping us, too."

I nodded. "All right, then. I'll help you make it. When will we be doing this?"

Mr. Caldwell glanced up at the sky through the window. "Tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?" I glanced at Sebastian. He was so asleep that he was entirely limp. Would he last that long? "Not tonight?"

"Tomorrow night will be the dark of the moon," he explained. "The medicine will be more powerful then and Sebastian will receive more of a benefit from it."

"Will he make it till then?" I asked, voicing the concern that was uppermost in my mind.

"Oh, yes, he'll make it," Mr. Caldwell assured me. "I promise, Ciel."

I didn't sleep well that night. I kept waking up during the night to check on Sebastian. His breathing was quiet and even and his skin was cool rather than hot with fever, but he still looked terrible. His skin was as white as wax and his lips were gray. When I took his hand his fingers lay limp in mine. He didn't even know I was there. He was so deeply asleep that he couldn't sense me. It was as if he'd just become a huge doll.

I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I was scared. I knew that what strength I had today, I owed to Sebastian. I'd been a powerless child in the hands of my captors. I knew that if Sebastian hadn't come, I would have died a painful death. I knew that everything I had today, I owed to Sebastian's strength. Even my feelings of safety and security I owed to him. After all, I had a demon's strength to protect me. Nothing mortal could kill me and weapons would never strike me as long as I had Sebastian's protection. I knew I could trust him with my safety. If I lost him, then I would lose those feelings that made me feel capable of getting up and facing the world. If I lost Sebastian, then I would be a frightened, powerless child again. If I lost him, I would lose all that I had gained...and I would lose a friend I trusted.

* * *

><p>Sebastian's POV:<p>

I'd once been told that I would know when I was dying. My body seemed to get quieter and quieter as time went by and trying to move became so difficult that I lacked the energy to try. The world seemed to lose its color and sounds only reached me after traveling a great distance, it seemed. The only thing that I was still strongly aware of was the link I shared with my master. Between my mark of contract and his, there seemed to be a bright string of light and warmth that I could feel at all times. At the moment, it was the brightest and strongest thing in my world aside from my regret that I could no longer serve my master and I would be unable to taste his soul before I died. Pity, that, but there it was.

Aside from my regret, I wished that Marcellus was there. Oh, I had a son's respectful regard for his parents and a deep, abiding respect for my grandparents, but Marcellus was the first family member to treat me with such _human_ affection. I had a theory that that was why I was so attached to him and that that was why human children were so attached to their parents. Was it the type and quality of affection that determined the strength of the attachment, or was it something that I, as a demon, could not grasp?

I wished I could ask my young master about it.

_Sebastian?_

Now, who was making noise? Didn't they understand that I wanted to sleep?

_Sebastian?_

Couldn't they let me alone? I was sure I knew the voice, but at the moment I didn't care who it was. I was too tired.

_Sebastian, what's wrong?_

How to answer that question? More to the point, did I want to? No, not really. I wanted to sleep.

_No! No! Don't die!_

Die? Ah, so I was right. The final adventure was imminent...

_Sebastian!_

I doubted that the voice could pull me back. Things were becoming dark...

"Sebastian?"

A different voice this time, sonorous and deep and ancient. Not a demon, but something older...Augustus, maybe? My eyes opened and I found myself staring up at the night sky. I was lying on my back on the grass and the sky was awash with stars. How had I gotten outside?

"Sebastian?"

Yet another voice. What did these voices want? Suddenly, the young master's face was above me, frowning down at me in worry. "Young master," I croaked, more than surprised. What was he doing here? Had I died? Was I about to die? What was going on?

"This is an order," he said sternly. "You are not to die, do you hear me, Sebastian?"

Somehow, I still had the strength to smile. "I wish I could oblige you, young master, but there are some things that you cannot stop with an order."

His eyebrows went up and his frown darkened. "So you're giving up?" he shouted, deafening me. Perhaps I wasn't dead yet. "What kind of butler are you?"

That pricked my heart. I was still his devoted butler, even if I was dying. Wouldn't he be relieved that I was dying? If I died, he wouldn't have to give his soul to me... I knew that he feared that end, even though he knew there was nothing he could do to change it. Also, he wanted what I could give him too much to try to end the contract. I knew he was afraid of being devoured by me and what would happen to his soul once I'd eaten it... "I'm one hell of a butler, young master."

"Then prove it! Stay with me!" he snapped. His gaze shifted away from me and fixed on someone nearby. "Are you almost done?"

"Ready for you now, Ciel," I heard Augustus say.

Somehow, I found the strength to turn my head. Augustus and Cecilia were standing by a stone bench covered with an array of equipment. What on earth were they up to?

"Cecilia, my dear, you stand here on my right and Ciel, you'll be on my left," Augustus said, his back to me as they took their positions. "Good. Now, hold your hands over the bowl..."

A flash of knives, gasps from both children, and then the scent of blood on the air.

"Don't move your hand, Ciel!" Augustus admonished the young master, his hand reaching out to hold the young master's hand in place. "We need more of your blood than one little trickle!"

"You didn't tell me you'd be doing _that_!" my young master argued. "That hurt!"

"It's just one slash, Ciel," Cecilia said evenly, trying to make peace.

"You told me I'd be helping you make a medicine!" he growled, ignoring Cecilia's efforts at peace-making.

"And so you are," Augustus said evenly. "I just didn't tell you that I needed your blood in order to make it."

"You bastard."

Cecilia gasped. "Ciel!"

"I'm not apologizing for that!"

I was too tired to be amused. I could feel what little sensation I had left in my limbs ebbing away...

"Enough, youngsters," Augustus said. "All right, that should do it. Cecilia, let me see your hand."

I watched, revolted and a bit fascinated, as Augustus drew his tongue across his daughter's palm. Just like that, the wound closed. He let go of her hand and reached for my young master's hand, but he moved it out of reach.

"I'll just let it heal on its own," he said quickly. "Really."

Augustus handed him a folded handkerchief. "Put some pressure on it, then. Now, let's finish this up."

I didn't understand everything he was doing. I saw different dried herbs and powders stirred into the bowl that held my master's and Cecilia's blood, and suddenly, the whole thing caught fire. My eyes watered at the sudden brightness and I saw both children shield their eyes from it. Funny, that flare of light made me feel a bit more alive. Interesting.

"What was that?" my master gasped, staring at the bowl.

"The medicine's almost ready. Now, to take down the wards."

Cecilia looked surprised. "Why do you need to do that, Papa?"

"When I made the wards, I didn't count on a demon running afoul of them," he explained. "They latched onto him and since then, they've been draining him. At the same time, his body's been fighting them. He's been so weak lately because his body's running out of strength to fight them. When I take them down, they'll stop draining him and we'll be able to give him the best chance of recovery."

"Why didn't you take them down sooner?" my young master demanded.

"If I'd taken them down sooner and we gave him the medicine sooner, it wouldn't have been as strong and it would have taken him longer to recover," Augustus clarified. "I didn't realize what the wards had been doing to him until early yesterday morning. Now, it's time to finish this."

So saying, he slashed his wrist over the bowl, allowing his blood to fall into it. If I'd been standing, the smell would have knocked me over. It smelled as strong to me as brandy would have smelled to a human. I could feel myself drifting away from it all as I watched him lick his wrist, closing the wound, and he carried the bowl over to me...things were beginning to go dark again...

_SEBASTIAN!_

Ah, there was that voice again...really, it was so familiar...

Fire flowed into my mouth and I choked. What...what was that? What _was_ it? I fought to turn my head away from it, but a strong hand held me where I was, forcing more fire into my mouth and it flowed down my throat, burning me up from the inside...

The first scream surprised me. Who was screaming at this hour of the night? The second and third scream annoyed me even more. Honestly, everyone was going to be woken up by that person...A fourth scream made me realize that the sound was coming from my own throat, and the sudden warmth in my body told me that I was very, very much alive. I screamed again as that warmth became fire.

I thought I'd experienced pain before this. If I'd been able to, I would have laughed at such naivete. Before this, I hadn't known what pain was. The purest, strongest, and most relentless pain had me in its grasp and its grip was tightening...tightening...how could one being be in so much pain and NOT die?

With one final assault, the pain pushed me firmly back into my body and held me there, closing off any possible avenues of escape. As it faded, I could feel myself settling back into every inch of my body, sensation returning to my limbs and breath returning to my lungs. My heart began to beat again and suddenly my cool skin became warm. I could feel things again...what little color there was at night blazed bright in my eyes. What the blazes had happened? Suddenly, it was quiet.

"Sebastian?" a human said, approaching me. I snarled at him and he stopped. His soul...ah, his soul! Suddenly, I was ravenous! His soul was pure light...he dwelt in darkness, but it had failed to stain him...Such a soul would be an unequaled feast!

"Sebastian!" the human snapped. "What are you on about?"

The tone of voice brought me to my senses just as a wrist pressed against my open mouth. The blood someone was feeding me burned like fire, but if it would quell that hunger and keep me from devouring my master, then so be it. I drank and drank...I drank until I was bloated with it.

"Is he all right?" I heard as I let the wrist go. "For a moment, it looked as if he didn't recognize me."

"He's better than all right," Augustus said, licking his wrist to close the wound. "His instincts took over for a moment, that's all."

Slowly, I got to my feet, thankful that I was still alive. I'd thought that I would have been dead by now. Amazing how things could change so quickly. "My deepest apologies, young master," I croaked, my voice hoarse.

"I'll forgive you if you never scare me like this again," he growled.

I felt myself smile. "Ah, would you have missed me if I'd died, Bocchan?"

He looked supremely annoyed at the pet name. Yes, he was feeling better. "Don't attach too much importance to yourself. I just didn't want to go through the trouble of finding another butler, that's all."

I grinned at him. I knew better.

A feeling of confinement snapped up around us...it felt as if were woven into the walls that surrounded the estate...

"The wards," Augustus explained. "I've restructured them so they won't touch you, Sebastian."

"Thank you," I said, remembering what he'd said about the wards draining me. "Let me guess: the young master and I won't be able to leave the estate, correct?"

"You're one hell of a butler," Augustus said.

The young master and I exchanged glances. We wouldn't be escaping this night, but we would...soon. It was a silent promise from us to Augustus. Now that I was better, he would have one hell of a butler to watch out for...


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sebastian's POV:

I had thought that once I'd regained my strength, our situation would improve. I'd thought that I would be able to fight back against Augustus and somehow make our escape from this place, but that was not what happened.

I cursed myself for my naivete. I should have known that Augustus had already thought of containing me, a demon, and rendering me harmless within the confines of his home. As soon as I felt those wretched wards snap up around us, I knew that it would be some time before the young master and I broke free of the place.

After my healing, Augustus insisted we all go inside and that the young master and his daughter have something hot to drink and go off to their beds.

"I don't want anything," my master said firmly.

Augustus turned so quickly that even I missed it. "And why not? You didn't eat much supper, it is late, and having something hot will help you sleep."

My master gave him a long look. "I'll drink something hot if Sebastian prepares it."

"Ciel, that's rude!" Cecilia chided him, actually wagging a finger at him.

"Right now, I don't care," my master said flatly. From his tone, I could tell that he was in a dangerous mood. He was over-tired, irritated, and struggling to understand just what had happened. All of that plus the fact that he was Ciel Phantomhive was not a good combination. The wrong word or something said in the wrong manner could set him off and then he'd be impossible to deal with for hours.

"Sebastian is just now healed," Augustus protested. "You can't expect him to…"

"I wouldn't mind," I said quickly. "It will be nice to fulfill my duties for a change."

The look Augustus gave me could have withered a redwood. It was fortunate that I was not a redwood.

My master actually smiled. "I won't say no to some hot milk, Sebastian."

I moved before Augustus could say anything and in a moment I was heating milk and searching out the honey.

"I suppose I can't stop you this time," Augustus muttered ungraciously, dropping into a chair.

I kept my opinions to myself. "Now that I'm well, what will I be doing?" I asked, watching the flame on the stove carefully.

Augustus looked thoughtful. "Another pair of hands will be helpful," he said at last. "You'll be helping out around the house."

Helping around the house would be vastly better than lying on my back all the time and staring at the same four walls. "That sounds fine."

Augustus nodded while I stirred the milk. "You'll most likely be helping Mrs. Partridge in the kitchen. She's been asking for some knowledgeable helpers who can do more than just slice bread and butter and boil eggs."

Over the past few years, I'd come to enjoy cooking. It was certainly nice to see the young master's appreciation whenever I made something he liked. If I received a measure of the same appreciation in this place, then I wouldn't mind helping this Mrs. Partridge. I poured the warm milk into two cups, added a dollop of honey to each, and placed both cups in front of the young master and Miss Cecilia.

"Thank you, Sebastian," Cecilia said politely, taking a sip. "Mmm. This is good."

"You are most welcome," I answered. "I am glad you like it." I smiled when I saw that the young master was far too busy drinking what was in his cup to notice what was going on around him. Since warm milk with honey was one of the first things I'd made for him that he'd liked, I had the theory that it was also one of his favorites. At any rate, he was always glad to have some when he became chilled. A glass of hot milk with honey and a hot bath and his bed usually worked wonders on his mood if the weather was cold. It also worked when he had a foul day. More than once some hot milk had made my master go from "brat" to "civil."

"Is there more?"

My master's request brought me out of my thoughts. "Enough for you both to have another cupful," I said after checking the level in the pan. I smiled when two cups were held out to me and I divvied it up between them. I tried to make sure that both of them had an equal amount since I knew how testy children could be about those things.

Once my master and Cecilia had swallowed the last of their milk, Augustus insisted that they go to bed.

"I'm not tired," my master snapped. "Quit harping on about going to bed."

"Someone that testy is in need of some sleep," Augustus answered evenly. "Now, you can go on your own, or I will take you. Which will it be?"

Cecilia was looking from my master to her father and back again, as if curious about which person would win this particular argument. I knew which person I would put my money on, but a true gentleman did not wager on such trivial matters. I could tell that my master was thinking about this and weighing his options, and I saw him smile when he reached a decision.

"I'll go if Sebastian helps me get ready for bed."

I wasn't surprised. One way or another, my clever master would think of a way to bend Augustus to his will in some small way, rather than the other way around. It was likely that my master would be so subtle about it that the elemental keeping us both captive wouldn't realize just how my master had done it until it was already too late. If Augustus became used to giving way to my master in small ways, he would give way unconsciously later when it really counted and such a capitulation on his part, small though it was, might even win us our freedom. I could tell that my master already had a plan forming in his mind.

I was very surprised when Augustus agreed, but I was more than happy to see my master upstairs and help him prepare for bed. As he was settling into the pillows, he actually smiled at me.

"You're in a good mood, young master," I said quietly. "Looking forward to pleasant dreams?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

I nodded. I'd been right; he was already plotting. That was a very, very good sign. "Good night, young master. Sleep well."

"Good night, Sebastian."

Augustus was waiting for me as I left the room. "Hello, Sebastian."

"Hello, Augustus."

"Follow me."

Following an order without a contract made me feel as if I were trying to choke down a mouthful of ash, but I followed him. I was a demon, and he was an elemental. I had no choice but to follow him as he led me through corridors and downstairs to a sitting room.

"Have a seat, Sebastian," he said, sitting down on a sofa. "I'd like to talk with you for a bit."

I sat, certain that he was about to say something I would not like.

"Now that you are well, I'm sure that you know you'll be expected to help out."

"Yes," I agreed. I knew what he really wanted to say was yet to come.

"When you're around the adults and children here, you're not to allow any part of your demon nature to show. You're not to tell them what you really are in any way. Do you understand?"

"Completely," I answered. "One of my master's first orders was to be as human as possible."

"Good. Also, you are to obey me at once when I give you an order."

I knew he was an elemental and that he could kill me with little effort, but part of me wanted to rebel. Something in my expression must have told him my thoughts, for he smiled.

"I do want to keep you alive, for you interest me, Sebastian," he crooned, his eyes glowing with elemental light. "However, I expect your complete obedience. Do you understand?"

Despite myself, I felt a twinge of fear. "I understand."

"And you will obey?"

"I'll obey."

"Good."

Oh, what a bitter taste! Still, I would do what was necessary, for the young master.

"You will have to appear as human as possible here as well, and that means joining us for meals and appearing to sleep."

I would have to choke down food and be bored at night? Oh, wonderful. "Will I have to eat much?"

"Only enough to keep up appearances," Augustus said, smiling at my grimace. "I know that human food is less than appetizing for you, but do your best, all right?"

"I suppose I'll have to," I said, feeling less than gracious.

"I'm glad you understand," Augustus said. "In addition to helping out around the house, you'll also be expected to occasionally teach a lesson in the classroom from time to time as your duties permit. Due to your long time alive, you'll have gained an excellent store of knowledge, and we want our students to have the best education possible."

I would never admit it to any human, but teaching a human who had need of your knowledge was often fun. Teaching my young master was often so enjoyable that I looked forward to tutoring him when the lady governesses couldn't be present. If Augustus wanted me to teach, then I would teach. Teaching would also give me a chance to be near my master, which was important. We had to have frequent contact in order to plan our escape from this place. "All right."

Augustus smiled, elemental light blazing in his eyes. "You really need to work on hiding your thoughts, Sebastian. No human could discern them, and very few demons, but to me...Escape has been on your mind since your healing."

It wasn't a question, and denying anything would probably only make him angry. "Of course," I said, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing. "It's only natural for someone being held against his will to want to escape, isn't it?"

He chuckled. "Yes, it is. It's also been known for someone to wish to remain with his captors after he's been with them for a while...I wonder...If I keep you here with me long enough, will you want to remain?"

I fought down a shudder. I knew just what he was talking about. One woman I'd contracted with had become obsessed with a young actor and she'd ordered me to "obtain" him for her and make sure that he would not leave her side. He'd tried escape several times over the next year and each time I'd pursued him and brought him back. He was absolutely frightened by me, but he was so terrified of her that she made him go numb. He was her prisoner until I took her soul and he was absolutely adrift after she died. I learned later that he'd ended his days in Bedlam, unable to cope with life after gaining his freedom. To become like that poor human wreck I'd helped create...it didn't bear thinking about.

"Well, enough talk for tonight," Augustus said. "I'll show you to your room, and in the morning, report to the kitchen at six, all right?"

My room was a small box of a room on the same floor where I'd found my master after making my way up all those wretched stairs when I'd been ill. In candlelight, the room looked even smaller despite the tiny window that looked down to the gardens. Because Augustus ordered me to, I undressed and went to bed and pretended to sleep once he left. I was in bed for maybe ten minutes before I heard him coming back.

"Sebastian," he said quietly, opening my door. "I forgot to say one thing."

"What is it?"

"Sleep well."

The next thing I knew, it was morning. An alarum clock on my nightstand was shrilling out the time of half-past five and piercing what early-morning tranquility there was left. I sat up, smacked the clock into submission (and blessed silence), and forced myself to my feet. While I made use of the washstand and pulled on the clothes Augustus had left for me, I thought about what had happened last night. He'd been able to force me to sleep without even touching me. I _hated_ that. To make a human sleep, I had to touch him or her, but Augustus...I couldn't understand it. Why did he feel the need to make me sleep and what could possibly be the point of it? Verisimilitude was needed, not actual fact!

I pushed that thought aside as I made my bed and put my room in order. I made my way downstairs into the kitchen and found myself facing a formidable woman kneading bread dough at the table. She looked at me and I had to fight the irrational impulse to back out the nearest door. This was Mrs. Partridge? What had I gotten myself into?

"Are you Sebastian?" she asked, wiping her hands on the towel she had over her shoulder before pouring a cup of tea.

"Yes, ma'am."

She turned her head to the side, considering me. "All right, then," she said, pushing the cup of tea into my hands. "Drink that and then get to work. There are vegetables to be peeled and chopped and eggs to be gathered. Hurry up, now."

I choked down the tea and nearly winced at how bitter it was. How long had it been in the pot? It would be admirable as a corrosive, but not as a beverage. As soon as I put the empty cup down Mrs. Partridge shoved a large willow basket at me filled with straw and then pushed me out the door. I knew that in the kitchen garden there was a chicken coop, so I made my way there to gather eggs. The straw in the basket would prevent any eggs from breaking while I gathered them, but I was careful while I checked nests and loaded the basket. It looked as if Mrs. Partridge was planning omelets or some such for breakfast, so I gathered the needed number of eggs and took them back to the kitchen.

Mrs. Partridge ran an expert eye over the eggs before taking them and directing me to handle the vegetables. I was deeply thankful that I was already wearing work gloves, and while I peeled and chopped, Mrs. Partridge began to break the eggs into a bowl and beat and season them while a two-burner griddle heated on the stove. When directed, I took the bowl of cleaned and chopped vegetables to the bowl of beaten eggs and added them while Mrs. Partridge dropped a bit of water onto the griddle. It jumped about, signaling that the griddle was ready. In another minute Mrs. Partridge had sent me to the scullery to wash the mixing bowls while she set about scrambling the egg and vegetable mixture. I'd just finished washing the dishes when Mrs. Partridge called me back to mix and bake two batches of scones. Once they were in the oven I was sent to the dining room to help some of the other adults set the tables for breakfast. I'd just finished that task when the waking bell for the children was rung and I was sent back to the kitchen to help Mrs. Partridge put the food into serving dishes. Just as we'd finished carrying it all into the dining room and placing the dishes on the tables the children filed in, some half-asleep, others happy to be awake. I caught sight of my master and he looked barely awake, true to form. He wouldn't wake up until he'd had some tea. I sincerely hoped that the tea that he would be served would be far better than what I'd been given that morning.

It wasn't long before Augustus arrived and showed me where I was to sit. I took a little of each dish that was passed to me and pretended to eat when I could and choked down a bite or two when I couldn't. Breakfast wasn't far from ending when Augustus stood, drawing everyone's attention.

"I'm sure that all of you have noticed the new face here at the front table," he said, pitching his voice to carry out over the dining room. "This is Sebastian. He is the butler to a young earl named Ciel Phantomhive, but all of you know him as Stephen Browne." Immediately there was a rush of whispers among most of the children and more than a few incredulous glances at my young master. Augustus ignored this and continued. "Don't hold this against them; they were here undercover by the orders of the Queen. They were merely doing what they'd been told to do. I want all of you to make them feel welcome. Sebastian will be helping Mrs. Partridge in the kitchen and he will helping to teach all of you, so show him the same respect you would give all of us. Also, do not hold this against Ciel and don't change your behavior toward him. If I hear of any harassment of either, I shall be most unhappy. Now, please, continue with your meal, and then off to lessons."

Breakfast did not take long at all to finish and I had a strong feeling that the children wanted to get away for a good gossip about what they'd learned. Carefully, I made my way from the table and met my master by the door. "Will you be all right?" I asked quickly. I was willing to face Augustus' wrath and skip out on my kitchen duties and stay by my master's side if needed, but my master nodded. That was all I needed to see, so I hurried to join the other adults and some of the older children in clearing the tables and carrying the dishes to the scullery for washing up.

I was less than pleased to be assigned dishwashing duty by Mrs. Partridge, but I gave it my best effort. By ten o'clock they were finished and Mrs. Partridge put me to washing and peeling potatoes for lunch. It looked like we were having bangers and mash for lunch and I took a chance to slip out of the kitchen and upstairs to the classrooms to check on my master. He was deep in a book, so I hurried back the kitchen, but I met Augustus on the stairs. The look he gave me could have frozen flame.

"Shouldn't you be in the kitchen, Sebastian?"

"I'm on my way there now," I said, hurrying past him.

A hand with the grip of vise fastened on my arm and I froze for a moment before turning to look at Augustus.

"Will we need to discuss the issue of obedience again?" he demanded.

"We will not," I said quietly. "We do not need to discuss it now."

I could see him thinking about my words and he gave a bleak laugh. "I did not order you to stay away from your master or remain in the kitchen. I see. Well, this is now an order that I expect you to obey: Unless I say otherwise, you are to remain in the kitchen, in your room, or in any other room that your duties require you to be in. You are not to seek your master out unless I give you permission. If you disobey me...he will be punished."

My heart clenched and for a moment pure panic overwhelmed me. He was making my master responsible for my behavior?

"Do you understand?" he asked, his voice still quiet. No human would be able to hear it, but it was loud enough to reverberate in my ears.

All he would have to do to rip my arm off would be to tighten his grip a little and pull and I knew that caution was called for, so I gave the only answer I could. "Yes."

He released my arm. "Good. Now go back to the kitchen."

It had been a close escape. It was so close that there was no way it could have been closer. He was angry because I'd found a way around his wishes, but I knew that he wouldn't let me get away with it a second time. I would have to be very, very careful.

* * *

><p>Things did not improve after that. Actually, they got worse. All of my time was taken up with my work in the kitchen. I was not called on to teach, so that meant I did not see my young master. Aside from meals or the few glimpses I managed to catch of him while he was outside, I did not see him. I was far too busy doing things in the kitchen. Mixing, baking, peeling, chopping, simmering, kneading, sweeping, scrubbing, scouring...I was constantly busy during the day. At night, I had perhaps half an hour from the time I got to my room before Augustus came to send me to sleep. He insisted that I go to sleep at night, but I still didn't know why. There was no point to it, really, but he insisted on it. I did wake up refreshed in the mornings, but that was beside the point!<p>

I kept doing the chores that were assigned to me and I did as Augustus told me. I got sick of it rather quickly, but I kept my temper as best I could. The young master and I had yet to have a visit or even a chance to speak to one another, but eventually, we would manage it. We had to. I could tell that my master and I were both reaching a breaking point yet again. I could see it in the set of his jaw and the way he held his shoulders and the way he glared at everyone. I had a perpetual headache and I had to constantly tell myself to keep my demon nature suppressed. It was a challenge, though. If I could not meet the challenge, however, I could not call myself a Phantomhive butler.

Things changed when I found a note in my pocket one evening after dinner. I read it, read it again, and felt a smile start.

_Sebastian,_

_I've figured out a way for us to meet. Every night there's a period of about twenty minutes when no adults go anywhere, at twenty after ten. All of them, even Augustus, are down in the staff sitting room until about twenty until eleven. That will give us enough time to talk and begin to plan. The safest place for us to meet will be on the stairs between the third and second floors. I'll see you there tonight. Don't disappoint me. Your master._

For a moment, I was overwhelmed with pride. I had no idea how he'd done it, but he'd managed to figure out the routines and rhythms of the people watching us, scout out a place safe for us to meet, and contrive to get a note to me informing me of this. I wasn't only proud, I was impressed.

It took ages for the time to pass until our designated meeting time. When it came at last, I crept out of my room and toward the stairs. I kept an ear on everyone downstairs, and I was thankful to hear Augustus and Lady Alyssa downstairs in the staff lounge, chatting away with the other adults. Lady Alyssa had been in London for the past few days and they were discussing her latest shopping trip. She'd brought back toys and sweets for the children and gifts for the other adults and they were all busy discussing that and saying their thank-yous. Even Cecilia was down there, talking with the others. If they were all down there, then there was a good chance that the young master and I would managed to talk as much as we needed.

"You were right," I said when I reached the meeting point. He was already there, and when he saw me, he grinned.

"I've been watching all of them for a while," he told me. "I still can't believe that I wasn't caught! Now, about an escape..."

That was my master, all business. We discussed the routines of the house, how we could get away, and whether we should trust the local police force or send for the Yard. We were just discussing the possibility of sending a wire from the train station to Sir Randall when...

"What do the two of you think you're doing?"

It was like hearing the voice of doom. The air around us went icy and hoarfrost formed on the walls and the stairs as mist formed around us. I scooped my master up and ran for the nearest window, but a brick wall hit us both and sent us flying down the third-floor hallway. I heard a sickening crunch as my master skidded on the floor, but by the time I regained my feet Augustus had already gotten to him.

"His arm's broken," he said, his voice a deep growl. "Why wouldn't the two of you do as I told you?"

"Why should two captives listen to their captor?" my master gasped, struggling to his feet.

Despite the fact the two of us were about to be killed by an elemental, I was proud of him. He was still Ciel Phantomhive, no matter what.

"Enough," Augustus growled. "I have had enough."

Even though I expected it, blackness came and took me by surprise.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hey, guys! Contrary to rumor, I have not died or gone into hiding. I've finally managed to finish this chapter! The battle was long and bloody, but well worth it, I think. I hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 9

Ciel's POV:

A twinge from my arm woke me. Rather, it was a fiery, burning agony that made me crawl toward consciousness, however reluctant I was to go. When I opened my eyes I was staring at the oh-so-familiar walls of the infirmary and the frowning face of Cecilia, her brows creased in thought as she read a book.

"Cecilia," I croaked, my throat dry from who-knew how many hours of oblivion.

My croak made her set aside her book and approach my bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible," I managed.

"Well, the body does not take kindly to having its bones broken," she retorted dryly, pouring me a glass of water from the carafe on the bedside table. "It's natural you should feel terrible."

I was not about to receive any sympathy from her; that was clear. In the place of the girl who liked to chat about roses was a stern nurse who looked ready to kill me. "Where's Sebastian?"

"I don't know," she said shortly, adding a few spoonfuls from a glass vial to the glass of water she'd poured. "Papa took him somewhere else in the house and he asked me to look after you. Now, drink this."

I eyed the glass she held out with some suspicion. "What is it?"

"What I added to the water was concentrated willow bark tea," she said patiently. "It will help with the pain you're in. Now, do you want it or not?"

She didn't have to ask twice. I downed the entire glass and winced at the taste, but as the stuff started to work, the pain faded and I felt a little better.

"Do you feel as if you can eat anything?" Cecilia asked. "Some broth and perhaps a little bread?"

"No," I told her. "Definitely not."

"Very well."

The willow tea started to work after a few minutes and blessed relief took over. My arm still hurt, but it was bearable for the moment. "How long have I been here?"

"Since last night, and now it's the middle of the following afternoon."

I looked at the splint on my arm. "Was it a bad break?"

"It was a clean break," she told me. "There should be no problem with healing and the splint should come off in one to two months."

One to two months? Oh, wonderful. My mind worked furiously, but it failed to come up with anything. I would be stuck with a broken arm for one to two months. There was nothing I could do.

The door opening drew my attention and Mr. Caldwell entered the room. "Ah, good to see you're awake, Ciel. How are you feeling?"

"My arm hurts, my head aches, and I want to see Sebastian," I said, forcing myself into a sitting position.

"Nonsense," he told me, pressing back on my shoulders so that I would lie down. "You're in no fit state to see anyone."

I scowled at him from my nest of pillows. "I'm perfectly fine," I snapped. "There's nothing wrong with my legs."

"Regardless, you're not leaving the infirmary." His eyes flashed for a moment. "Not only are you injured, but I am very disappointed in you, Ciel."

I'd had enough. "Oh, shut up!" I snarled. "You're not my father, so don't use a line like that with me!"

Sebastian could move so quickly that I could miss it entirely, but Mr. Caldwell was even faster. His hand gripped my chin in less than an instant, forcing me to look up at him and meet his eyes. "Be careful, child. I hope you realize that you should **not**_ use a line like that with me_."

His voice rumbled around us and the air darkened as the temperature dropped. I couldn't help shivering, but whether it was from the cold or from fear, I couldn't say.

"I see you understand me," he said, his voice human. "Good." He turned to Cecilia. "My dear, would you be good enough to give Ciel and I a few minutes alone? I'm afraid this must be private, and it's not suitable for a young lady to witness."

"Of course, Papa," she said, getting up from her chair. "I'll see you later."

She left, and the sound of the door closing sounded like the knell of doom. Suddenly, I was very, very nervous.

"Why did you and Sebastian disobey me, Ciel?" he asked as the sound of Cecilia's footsteps faded.

What answer would be least likely to make him angry? I thought as quickly as I could, but none suitable surfaced. "I...You know I don't want to be here," I said, playing for time. Was there any answer I could give him that would satisfy him?

"Yes, I know that."

"If you know that I don't want to be here, then of course, you would realize that I would try to leave."

He glanced at me. "Yes, I did realize that."

Now I was confused. "If you knew...then why do you want to know the reason for why we met?"

"Why did you meet?"

"We had to talk," I said. "We needed to discuss how we were going to leave this place." If he had to have that explained to him, then he was hopelessly stupid. Funny, I'd never met a stupid demon. Granted, Sebastian was the only one I'd met, but he often portrayed himself as the epitome of his kind: ancient, highly intelligent, sometimes annoying and dangerously ravenous for human souls.

"What I'm trying to understand is why Sebastian obeyed that note from you," he said after considering my words.

"Well, he has to," I said.

"And why's that?" he wanted to know. "Demons and their like refused to recognize any higher power. That is why they became demons."

"He's my butler, and we have a contract," I reminded him.

He nodded. "Ah, yes...the contract." He turned to face me and I saw his eyes flash. "The contract...the one that ensures he receives your soul once he has completed his end of the bargain. Correct?"

"Well...yes." I had a feeling he was going somewhere with this, but I couldn't guess where.

"I doubt your father would like to know that you've made a contract with a demon," he told me.

"I didn't make the contract for my father's sake," I snapped. "I made it for my own."

Augustus gave me a long look. "I see."

Often, I'd wished that I could read Sebastian's mind, and now I wished I could read Mr. Caldwell's. What was he thinking right now?

"I can see that this contract could become a problem," he said. "He could disobey me by obeying an order from you."

I began to get even more nervous but I couldn't say why. "If you would just let us go..." I began, but he interrupted.

"Oh, I don't think so," he told me. "How could I? You are a child who has lost his parents and who has witnessed countless brutalities since their loss. You must stay here where you can be cared for."

"I don't need anyone to take care of me!" I protested. "Sebastian does just fine when I need anything and I don't see what business it is of yours!"

His eyes flashed again. "You do know that I knew your father at one point, don't you?"

I nodded. "Sebastian told me."

"I was happy to think of him as a friend," he continued. "Despite the atrocities he'd seen in his lifetime, his soul was still pure. It shone with light and it was breathtaking to see. In that light, I could see the deep love he bore for you and your mother. There were times when I found ways to be close to him just so I could enjoy looking at his soul. Over time, I could see that he wasn't just a fine soul, but a good man as well. It became an honor to know him, and I feel it would be a dishonor of his memory if I allowed his son's soul to be consumed by a demon. I have reached a decision."

"About what?"

His eyes flashed again. "I don't think you want to know."

If anything, I became even more frightened. "What are you going to do?" I just knew that he was going to do something, but how I knew it, I couldn't say.

He looked at me again and his eyes flashed. "I think...nothing, just yet. I think we all need some time before anything changes, don't you agree?"

He was playing a game with me! "No," I told him flatly. "Tell me now!"

I could see that I'd made him angry. Once again, he moved so quickly that I couldn't see what he did, and suddenly I was out of the bed and lying face-down over his lap.

Panic flooded me. "What the blazes do you think you're doing?" I demanded, fighting to pull away from him.

"I think you need a little reminder of the change in your circumstances," he told me, his voice dark with anger. "Now hold still."

Abruptly, I was back _there_, with _those people_, and that one man came forward, saying that we were just going to play a little _game_... "PLEASE STOP!" I screamed, my entire body shaking. "PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

Just as abruptly, I was sitting upright on his lap and leaning against his chest with his arms around me. As the knowledge that I was not about to be hurt sank in, relief flooded through me. My throat closed up, my eyes stung, and I fought not to cry...

"It's all right, Ciel," Mr. Caldwell said, holding me. "I should have thought about what you've been through before I tried something like that. I'm sorry."

I couldn't speak. All I could do was shake.

"It's all right," he repeated, moving his hand in soothing circles up and down my back. Sebastian had often done the same thing when I became overwhelmed by a dream or a case. "I promise that I won't do anything of the like to you, Ciel. I promise."

I was still shaking, but I was starting to be calmer. "Wh-what w-were y-you tr-tr-trying t-to d-do?" I stammered, my shaking interfering with my speech.

"I only meant to frighten you a little, but it looks like it worked a little too well," he said, sounding chagrined. "I apologize."

"N-never d-d-do th-that a-again," I ordered, fighting to calm myself.

"I won't," he told me. "You don't have to worry."

I was still trembling, and just then I realized how much my arm hurt! I must have done something to it.

"Are you all right?" he asked, just as the pain reached "unbearable."

"My arm," I gasped.

Mr. Caldwell made me sit up straight, reached out, and yanked on my arm so quickly that I didn't even have time to yelp from the pain, much less scream. Almost immediately, the pain faded to a dull throb and I stared to feel much better. "What did you do?"

"The bones were knocked out of alignment when you were thrashing, so I reset them. Feel better?"

"Ah...yes," I admitted. "Thank you." All of the emotion I'd experienced in just the last five minutes had worn me out and I slumped against him, all of my strength gone. He continued rubbing my back and he began humming a lullaby, one that sounded ancient and soothing. I was almost asleep when I felt him shift and put me back into bed. I forced my eyes open and grabbed hold of his sleeve before he could move away. "Wait."

He stopped. "Yes, Ciel?"

"What are you going to do with Sebastian and I?"

All he did was chuckle, put his hand over my eyes, and that was all I could remember before falling asleep.

When I next woke, I was in a different room. I was sure that I was in a upstairs room at one of the four corners of the house since there were two walls of windows and all I could see from where I lay in bed were the tops of trees. It was a nice, sunny room, the plain white walls enlivened by brightly-colored prints and the floors by rag rugs. It was a room for resting in after a long illness or bitter disappointment.

The sun in the room did nothing to clear the fog from my head. I was still sleepy and I was fighting the temptation to slip back into sleep with might and main. It was so very tempting to just close my eyes and fall back into oblivion, but I knew I couldn't. I had to stay awake and figure out where I was and hopefully, find Sebastian.

Before I could get out of bed and begin searching for him, the door opened and Mr. Caldwell came in.

"Ah, I timed that pretty well," he said, seeing me awake. "How are you feeling?"

"Odd," I confessed. "Like I'm still half-asleep."

He nodded and settled into the chair next to my bed. "I expected that. I've had you in a healing sleep."

I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"You've been asleep for the past week. Sleeping like that will help you heal a little faster, but your mind will be a bit foggy until you're healed."

If I'd had the energy, I would have slaughtered him. As it was, I threw a pillow at him, trying to vent my feelings that way, but my annoyance went through the roof when he chuckled.

"Maybe you're not as sleepy as you appear," he said, calmly picking up the pillow and placing it back on my bed.

"I feel like I can't wake up," I complained. "You say that's part of what you did to me?"

"It is," he confirmed. "Don't worry, it will go away once you're healed. The reason why you still feel is sleepy is that your body is in a state of semi-sleep. Human bodies mend faster when they are asleep, so keeping you in that condition as much as possible will help you heal faster."

Put that way, it sounded like nothing I could object to. "All right." I stopped and thought. "I know you may not want to tell me, but how is Sebastian? Where is he?"

He smiled. "Worried for your butler?"

"Of course. He is my servant and a master does not abandon his servants."

"Spoken like a true aristocrat," Mr. Caldwell said, no tone of mockery in his voice. "Sebastian has been sleeping, just as you have. I'm still deciding, you see, what to do with the pair of you. To me, you're both children, and deciding what is best for children is not always the easiest decision to make."

Again with the "child" view! There were no words in human speech to convey how annoying I found that simple word! "Sebastian doesn't treat me like a child," I offered, hoping to gain an attempt to persuade him to my point of view. "He says that it isn't necessary."

Ah, I could see that I'd gained his attention. He focused his gaze on me and lifted an eyebrow. "Why does he say that?"

"Because I don't really act like a child," I told him. "I don't whine or misbehave or cry or..." I stopped, mightily confused. Why the devil was he laughing?

"My dear boy," he said at last, fighting for control. "You may not do those things, but I'm sure you behave like a child in other ways."

I couldn't think of any. "I don't."

He stared at me for a moment and burst into laughter again. "You don't!" By this point, his head was back and he was laughing so hard that I was surprised he didn't snap his neck. "All right, then, let's look at this another way. Have you ever refused to eat certain things just because you don't like them?"

"Why should I eat things I don't like?" I wanted to know.

"Sebastian may not treat you like a child, at least, he may not treat you like a child the way most adults would treat children, but have you ever found him coaxing you or bargaining with you to get you to do things you don't want to do?"

As if his words were a curse, a thousand images of instances where Sebastian had coaxed or bargained with me to do things he wanted me to do rose in my mind. The time when he'd cancelled my dance lesson for the day in exchange for my eating a spinach salad...the day where he'd allowed me to wander the British Museum as I pleased in exchange for my promise to study a certain book when we went home...my going to bed at my usual time in exchange for a story from him...Dammit, he was right!

"You see?" Mr. Caldwell said with a pleased smile.

"Gloating does not suit a gentleman," I told him.

He fought to squelch his smile for a moment. "Quite right."

I thought about what he'd said about Sebastian and children and everything else. "Mr. Caldwell, do you treat Sebastian like a child even though he's a grown man?"

"To me, he seems as much a child as you do. Why?"

"He doesn't view himself as a child, much the same way as I don't view myself as a child."

"Yes, I know," he sighed. "I remind myself of that each time I talk with him, but his stubbornness is the stuff of legends. He's even more stubborn than you are."

_That_ was something I'd never heard before. "Really?"

"Yes." His tone was one of a long-suffering man. "One of my latest ambitions is to make him at least somewhat docile, but I doubt that will happen. There is only one way out of this state of detente that I can see, but I'm reluctant to try it. It will be difficult for all involved."

"What are you thinking of?" I asked, hoping he would drop some hint...

"Nothing you need to worry your head about," he said, firmly closing the door on the topic. "Now, Cecilia will be up in a little bit. She'll have something for you to eat and drink, you'll have a chance to wash up and change, and then you'll be going back to sleep. All right?"

I dropped into the pillows behind me with a sigh. "Do I have a choice?"

"Not really, no," he said, placing his hand on my forehead.

I didn't like being forced to sleep. I didn't like being forced to do ANYTHING, but being forced to sleep and dream was like adding insult to injury. My mind battled against it, fought to wake up, then gave in, dropping into strange and troubling dreams. Most of my dreams I didn't remember, but one dream came at me like an old enemy, determined to put me down again. I was back_ there_, seeing those masks and cloaks, hearing their voices, and feeling their hands on me...No, I wasn't there, I was still in my room at Sanctuary...What were they doing here? They were all dead; Sebastian had killed them...what were they doing here? They drifted forward, their hands reaching for me, their fingers just brushing my skin like flames...I jerked awake and my throat was scored raw in a moment with a single shout: "SEBASTIAN!"

* * *

><p>Sebastian's POV:<p>

I woke in darkness. As a demon, my eyes were far better than those of humans, but if there was no light, then I could not see. To me, the darkest night appeared like full noon would to humans, but if there was no light, then I was essentially blind. Waking up like that was deeply unsettling and I held very still, trying to get a grasp on where I was.

"Are you awake?"

I froze. "Augustus?"

"Yes."

Yellow light blazed to my right and twin spots of elemental light focused on me. Unnerving. "I'm awake."

"You must realize that I'm angry with you, Sebastian."

"Yes, I realized that."

He was silent for a moment, but then I heard him move closer. "I must decide what I'm going to do about it."

Any number of unpleasant scenarios cropped up in my mind, but I forced them back down. I had to concentrate. What I said now could either enrage him or placate him. "I suppose it's too much to hope for a favorable response if I apologized?"

I saw him blink. Good, I'd surprised him. Then, he chuckled. Even better!

"Yes, it's too much to hope for, but you have managed to amuse me," he said. "I didn't expect that."

"Is that a good thing?"

Again, a chuckle. "Perhaps." He was quiet for a moment, then I heard him step closer. "You and your master are quite troublesome sometimes, you know."

What could I say to that? Was he looking for an apology?

"I suppose it's because of what you both are," he continued. "He is a human used to giving orders and having them obeyed. You are a demon who is accustomed to obeying the orders of humans in order to gain your next meal. Quite a perplexing problem, when one thinks about it." He was silent for a moment, apparently thinking. "What should I do about the pair of you?"

I wondered how he would take the suggestion of letting us depart. In my experience, a captor rarely took the news with grace that his captives wished to leave him.

"You are so young compared to me," he said at last. "So very, very young. Compared to you, Ciel is just as young to you as you are to me. There are times when I fail to understand either of you."

"There are times when I feel the same way," I confessed. "I don't always understand my master, but..." I trialed off, not certain what I wished to convey to him.

"But you still care for him," Augustus said with conviction. "I think that's what can be difficult for you demons. Even though the humans you serve are your next meals, you always come to care for them in some way. Isn't that right?"

Immediately I opened my mouth to refute him, but I had to pause for a moment as the truth of his words sunk in. Once I realized he was right, there was nothing I could really say to oppose him. "Yes, I suppose we do care for them in some manner," I said as graciously as I could under the circumstances. "What of it?"

"Haven't you ever wished that you could have a different source of nourishment, one that would allow you to be near the humans you care for without them having to lose their souls?"

"That's impossible," I told him. I knew that he and I both knew that nothing could be as satisfying to me as a human soul...

"Oh, it's possible," he said. "Very, very possible. It would take a sacrifice on your part, but I can make it happen."

I didn't want to hear any more. "I'm not interested, Augustus."

He sighed. "As you please."

He left me alone after that, leaving me a candle for light. I dozed off and on, but each time I woke, I became convinced that someone was coming in and switching out candles, always leaving a new one burning since the candles I saw never seemed to get any shorter. I dozed and I was sure time passed, but the candles I saw always remained the same. I knew that should bother me for some reason, but my mind remained too foggy to worry about that for long. Sometimes I dreamed, but they were always vague and I didn't remember them upon waking. Once, I dreamed of my master, in bed himself, dreaming and struggling with a nightmare. I dreamed he jerked awake and called for me.

Suddenly, I was awake, my ears ringing with the sound of his voice. "_SEBASTIAN!_"

I knew what was going to happen even before I did it. I was on my feet, making my way to my master, through doors, down hallways, up stairs, and through another door...

There he was, sitting in bed, pale and shaking. He'd had a nightmare that had left him too terrified to stand being alone, so he'd called me. "I'm here, young master."

He reached out a hand, a mute appeal for me to come closer. The fact that he felt the need for someone to touch him, rather than the opposite, spoke to how badly he'd been frightened by his dreams. I was the only person whose touch he didn't mind. I'd never asked him, but once he'd confessed that he didn't mind my touching him since my interest in his body only went as far as keeping him healthy because his body was what housed his soul. It was almost frightening how perceptive he was at times...

"Did you have a bad dream, Bocchan?"

"They were here," he gasped, shivering. "They were all here, glaring at me, and touching me..."

I knew right away what he wanted me to do. I sat down on the bed and held out my arms, and a moment later he was in them, sitting on my lap and cuddled against my chest. Odd, how this unchild-like child wanted to be comforted like a child...Still, if that was what he needed...

We sat that way for several minutes, him fighting with the uncontrollable shivering that always followed a dream like this and me wondering just how long it would take before...

"What do you two think you're doing?"

I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, I'd known that Augustus would be coming: He couldn't have missed my master's shout, not with his keen hearing, and he had to have known that I would respond to it. Even though I'd known all this, I was still startled when I heard Augustus' voice.

"I had a nightmare!" my master shouted, fighting down a sob. He never allowed himself to cry, and his pride was not about to allow him to start now. "I was scared!"

"You could have called for me, or for Cecilia," Augustus reminded him.

"I wanted Sebastian," my master insisted. "He's the one who's been there for me after all of my nightmares these past few years, and he knows how to help me feel better."

Uh-oh. From the tone of his voice and from the tension in his body, I could tell that he was absolutely fed up. He was about to fly off the handle and drag the rest of us with him.

"You've been wondering what to do with us since you brought us here, and your indecision has made life difficult for all of us!" my master shouted. "I hate this place, I hate your wretched conviction that we're children who need to be watched after, and I hate _you_! LET US GO!"

The stillness that followed made me feel as if I'd been deafened. Involuntarily, I tightened my arms around my master and held him close.

"I will not let you go," Augustus said calmly. "Several things have become clear to me just now, and I must change them."

The temperature dropped and I felt my master shiver.

"Augustus..." I gasped, fighting the urge to shiver, myself. "What are you going to do?" I could not move, much less summon the strength to fight.

"What I should have done in the beginning," he said, taking hold of my master and I. He carried us both out of the room and downstairs to the basement room where I'd first been kept. All of my strength had left me, leaving me as limp as a rag doll. Augustus laid my master and I side by side on the floor, began lighting candles, and enclosed us with a circle of them.

"What are you doing?" my master demanded, his tiny frame fighting to rise from the floor.

"This will not take long," Augustus crooned, smoothing my master's hair. "A little flame, a little pain, then sleep..."

Panic surged through me. This sounded like nothing I was familiar with...Augustus began to speak, his words barely audible to my ears. The candles around us flickered and then flared, their flames reaching toward us. "What are you doing?" I gasped, fighting against the odd feeling that I was starting to drown in flames as they covered my face.

My master screamed as he felt the flames lick his skin. They were also caressing my skin, much like a lover would do...a spiteful, vengeful lover, really. I thrashed against the pain, trying to pull away, just as my master was fighting to get away from the flames that were smothering him. Suddenly, tension built in my body, and through my link with my master, I could feel the tension building in his. It quickly grew into an agonizing pain that consumed every part of me and I screamed, by back arching in pain. My master was the same way and I could feel the pain building, spiraling upward and smothering us...

_CRRRRAAACCCKKK!_

The pain eased in less than an instant and disappeared, leaving me oddly bereft. My muscles still quaked from the pain, but any discomfort was negligible. Aside from the pain disappearing, what had changed? Puzzled, I got to my feet. I could tell that something had changed, but what?

My master stirred on the floor, rolled to his side, and sat up, his eyes just as puzzled as mine. As he looked at me, I realized just what had changed. He looked at me with two blue eyes, neither with a mark of contract upon them. As my stomach sank, I pulled off my left glove and stared at the back of my left hand...one that no longer had a mark of contract. My master and I were just a human and a demon with no tie between us, and at the absolute mercy of an elemental who was watching us with a pleased smile that chilled us both to the bone.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hey, guys. Only a short chapter this time and entirely from Sebastian's POV. Sorry it's been so long; life intervened and robbed me of writing time. Enjoy, and please R & R!

Chapter 10

Augustus had said that he would like to see me obedient and docile. After he broke the contract, I could only remember losing consciousness. I woke from that nightmare of a broken contract to a cavern deep underground. What he'd done had drained my strength almost to the point of death, and I could only lie on the cave floor and breathe. I had no idea where I was, how I'd gotten there, or if I would ever see daylight again. He got obedient. He got docile. He got them both in abundance. What he got was a demon who was scared practically out of his mind.

Fear was a difficult emotion for me to experience. I was not used to it. I was used to being in control of any situation in which I found myself, but here I was, practically paralyzed by fear. I did not dare move or speak for fear of bringing a dire fate down on my head. A Phantomhive butler should have been ashamed to give in to his fear, but for the first time in my life and for the first time as a Phantomhive butler, I was crippled by it.

It was so quiet in this cave. A candle held to the cave floor by its own wax was the only light I had and it did nothing to dispel the darkness that surrounded me. I could hear water dripping somewhere and the sound of my own breath, but nothing else. Where was Augustus? Where was I? Most importantly, where was my master?

When a demon is injured or close to death, taking nourishment is the surest way to recuperate. However, I was alone in the cave. There was nothing and no one there for me to eat and in my weakened state, I was mad with hunger. Did Augustus intend to leave me here until I was crazed by it?

No, that wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all. I had to maintain my equanimity and my sense of self as much as possible. I had to remain in full possession of my faculties so I could escape. Keeping myself calm and managing to accomplish some small task would help with that. As it was, I knew that I was not going to meet my end lying on my back. I would at least be somewhat upright. Slowly, over time, I managed to move. First, my fingers, then an arm, and then the other arm…Next, my shoulders… The candle was a mere stub by the time I worked my way to a sitting position against the wall. I would have preferred to be on my feet, but sitting up was a start.

"Sebastian?"

The quiet voice startled me. I hadn't heard him approach, but he was there, standing at the entrance to the room I was in. "Augustus?"

"How are you feeling?"

He had to ask? "Not my best, truthfully," I answered. "Where am I?"

"This is a cave far below the house," he said. "There's an entrance to the tunnel leading to it in the wine cellar. This place was my home for many years." So saying, he knelt beside the guttering candle on the floor and pulled another from his coat. He lit it and embedded it in the pool of wax.

I was perplexed. "Your home?"

"Yes. Are you hungry?"

My entire being screamed for sustenance, but I fought it down. "No."

He looked at me, his eyes glowing. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I don't think you're being entirely honest with me, Sebastian."

Once again, fear rose up to choke me. "I'm not lying; you asked if I was hungry. I'm not."

He chuckled, the sound of it echoing around the cavern. "But you are ravenous. You're famished. You're practically crazed with the need to eat something. Surely such sensations could not be defined but such a narrow term as 'hungry.' Well, if that is the case, then it is best if you eat."

I knew what was going to happen before he even finished the sentence. I fought him as best I could and struggled to turn my face away, but he held his gashed wrist to my mouth and forced me to swallow. While he fed me, anger flooded me. Who did he think he was, subjecting me to a broken contract, confinement, and forced, agonizing nourishment? Somehow, someway, things had to change.

I could feel his arms around me as the sensation caused by the feeding suffused me. My body quaked with it and I could barely hear my screams over my pounding heart. By the time my heartbeat slowed, my throat was raw, my body trembling, and I was wholly exhausted.

"That's better, isn't it?" Augusts said, stroking my sweat-soaked hair back from my brow. "Now that you're fed, it's time for you to rest, Sebastian."

I was too exhausted to fight him when he began to undress me. I was almost afraid again, but my fears were baseless since he merely put me into fresh clothes and wrapped me up in a soft comforter. A pillow found its way beneath my head, and I was perfectly comfortable. One would think that this being had been putting people to bed for ages. Perhaps he had, but I immediately squelched that thought as too strange for belief.

"There we are," Augustus said, tucking the edge of the comforter underneath my chin. "Nice and cozy."

"I don't understand you at all," I said, feeling my body relax into the embrace of my ersatz bed. "The easiest thing for you to do would be to kill me—taking care of me in my weakened state—plus, my interference…" I trailed off. I detested the bad habit of speaking before one thought, and here I was, babbling away.

"I've told you before, Sebastian," he said, patting my shoulder. "I don't wish to kill you. You interest me and despite the inconveniences you've caused me, I wish to keep you around."

Discouraged, I sighed. "Could you tell me what will happen to me?"

"Nothing bad," he assured me. "Why don't I tell you a story until you fall asleep?"

I stared at him. "I'm not a child."

"Nevertheless, I think a story will do you good. I know you enjoy reading novels and hearing stories, so why not listen?"

I did enjoy reading novels and listening to good storytellers (although how he knew that was beyond me), so I nodded. "All right, then." Why not humor him? I'd seen no sign that he was mad, but perhaps madness in an elemental was different.

Augustus took a seat beside me and began to stroke my hair.

"Stop that," I complained, trying to move my head. "I'm not a child, and I'm not some kind of pet."

He chuckled, his voice sonorous. "Are you so sure about either?" he asked, not moving his hand. "Be quiet and listen."

I felt all resistance drain from me and in my mind I used every curse I knew. He'd stolen my will again, the unconscionable bastard.

"Once, a long time ago, a being was born," he said, his fingers playing with my hair. "The world was already ancient, but the people who lived on it were young. The people, humans with short lives, interested the being. They lived so much in the few years allotted to them. As time went by, the being's interest grew. The being traveled and met the humans, talked with them, and learned about them. The being was traveling on a small island when he suddenly became ill. As quickly as he could, he entered a healing sleep, which is much like death, except that you are alive. Humans found him and while he slept, they moved him to a cavern below the earth. They believed this being was the embodiment or the incarnation of their god. When the being awoke, he was in the cave, which had been made as comfortable as a palace, and he had a group of worshippers to see to his every need. Since he was still very weak, he could not leave. Even when he regained some of his strength, he was still too weak to resist his human keepers. It took him years to regain his full strength, and by that time, two generations of humans had come and gone. Somehow, he found himself unable to leave. He only saw the sun on certain days that the humans considered holy. As time went by, certain people began to notice that the being was lonely, so they asked what they could do to help him be happy. He asked for companions."

He must have been truly weakened to take two generations of human lifespans to recuperate from his illness. Just as surprising was the fact that he wanted companions. What did the humans do, go out and hunt up elementals?

"His first companion was a young girl. Her father had been cruel, but she was beautiful and hardworking, so she was brought to live in the cave with the being. It wasn't long, though, before the being noticed that she was lonely and missed the sunlight, so he asked for more companions and for a small house to be built at the entrance of the cave. His human companions lived there much of the time, but each of them spent some time every day with the being, talking with him and keeping him from being lonely."

So, he'd been given humans for companions. What must that have been like for them? To suddenly be taken from the life you knew and told that you must stay with this being that was not human? To be his companion? I doubted there were words for their feelings upon learning such a thing.

"Years came and went. His first companions aged and died, and new companions were found. He loved each of them as if they were his own children. However, time was passing and humans were learning different things and changing. Worship of a new god replaced the old one, and the humans left the being in the cave and worshipped in churches. Most of them forgot him entirely, and only a few of them remembered the cave, but not the being who'd been worshipped. He was lonely once more, so he went out into the world to explore again. He traveled the world, noting the changes that had taken place, but he still felt lonely. After many years of wandering, he returned home to the island and found a place that had changed out of all recognition. Humans were everywhere. None of them were lonely. After a time watching them, the being realized that the best way to stop being lonely was to live as a human."

Ahh, so that was why…

"He returned to where he'd spent so much time being worshipped as a god. A stately home had been built on the ground over the entrance to the cave, an entrance that people had forgotten existed. The couple who lived there were elderly with one daughter who'd lost her husband and a baby granddaughter. The being set himself up as a gentleman and courted the daughter, eventually marrying her and becoming father to the little girl. The elderly couple died due to age and illness claimed his wife, but he still had his daughter. As time went by, he realized that there were children out there who needed his aid and protection, and there were willing humans who would become his servants in order to help those children…"

"And so Haven was founded," I concluded. "Your daughter knows what you are. Is she all right with the children being kidnapped from their homes and families?"

"She understands that it is to their benefit," Augustus told me. "With all these children, I will never be lonely again, and she will have companions throughout her lifetime. Eventually, all of these children will pair off and create more children, who will create more children, and so on. Once she is older, I would be very happy if Cecilia chose someone with whom to have children of her own. I will be a grandfather, and then a great-grandfather, and then a great-great grandfather…It will be lovely."

"Even your great-great grandchildren will die, Augustus," I said gently. "And those after them…"

He nodded. "I know. That is why I've been thinking," he said, his fingers playing with my hair again. "How wonderful it would be to have a companion that will live as long as I will…"

I failed to see how any of the children would live that long. "Impossible. Humans age and die."

"Yes, they do." He was still playing with my hair.

"So why…" Like a flash, I realized what he was driving at and felt panic begin. "Augustus…are you thinking that…I…what are you thinking?"

"A demon would make an ideal companion," he said, confirming my fears. "Demons live long lives, they do not sicken or die, yet they do not have the strength to fight me…like I said, ideal."

I wanted, more than anything else, to run away as fast as I could. He wanted _me_ to be his companion? Madness! That would be like a lion taking a lamb for a companion! Sooner or later, the lion would get hungry…

"You need not fear me, Sebastian," he said gently, trailing his fingers down the side of my face. "Didn't I tell you you were special? You are as special among demons as Ciel Phantomhive is among humans."

"What are you planning?" I whispered, trying not to shiver. The quiet intensity in his voice frightened me more than anything else.

"If a human is taken away from all he knows, all familiar places and companions, and is kept by himself in a place from which he can't escape and is cared for by just one person, sooner or later, he will come to care about that person," Augustus said quietly. "It happens with kidnapped humans all the time. Humans form bonds with those around them. You know that. Sooner or later, Sebastian, you will come to care about me and you will wish to remain with me."

Horror was my first reaction. "No! Never!" Becoming his companion would be no better than being a glorified pet!

"Oh, yes," Augustus breathed, his eyes glowing. "After you have spent enough time by yourself, you will begin to look forward to my arrival each day, and you will be sad at my departure. Your days will start and end according to my comings and goings. You will crave my company, gladly eat when I feed you, and after I leave you alone, you will count the moments until I come back. Over time, you will not be able to remember your life before or imagine leaving me, and that is when you will be able to leave the cave for a short time. As more time passes, I will not have to keep you in the cave at all. By that time, you will be mine entirely, Sebastian. My sweet, dear Sebastian…"

Fear? Terror? Alarm? Panic? Dread? Could any of those feeble human words accurately describe how I was feeling? A pox on it, who needed _words_?

"I will bring you a few more comforts to make this place livable again," Augustus told me, smoothing my hair once more. "You should sleep in the meantime. You need your rest."

It was beginning already. I knew that kidnapped humans developed feelings for their captors when said captors took care of them, and Augustus was trying to do the same with me. Such things always started small…a comfortable dwelling…a place to sleep and enough to eat…and then, tiny expressions of concern for the captive's well-being to encourage him or her to remember that their captor was human…It was sickeningly simple.

"Wait," I said, as he got to his feet.

He smiled. "Missing me already?"

"The young master…"

Augustus' smile faded. "Ciel? What of him?"

"Is he all right?"

"At present, he is sleeping," Augustus said briskly, his tender manner suddenly more business-like. "He is not injured or ill."

"What have you done with him?" I could imagine any number of unpleasant possibilities…

"I could punish you by refusing to say, but that won't be conducive to the rapport I'm trying to build with you, Sebastian," he said dryly. "I know your erstwhile master is precious to you. He has not been harmed and he is sleeping. After the contract was broken, he lost consciousness, but soon he was up and had his feet under him and he proceeded to make life unrelenting hell for every adult in Haven."

"He…did?" Such a scenario was so normal and possible that I had a moment of unreality wash over me. One moment, I was hearing how this being planned to keep me imprisoned, and the next, I was hearing brat horror stories.

"He kept demanding to see you," Augustus sighed. "When he was told he could not, he threw the tantrum to end all tantrums and wrecked half the house. No one could believe that tiny body held so much untapped energy."

That comment brought the ghost of a smile to my face. The young master had incredible energy that was rarely revealed…unless we went into a bookshop. Then, the clerks trembled in fear and barred the doors to prevent the unsuspecting public from wandering into harm's way by entering the shop. I'd learned over the years that books were serious business for the young master. "I'm amazed you were able to calm him down."

Augustus huffed. "Who said anything about calming? He managed to clobber me in the head with a mantel clock and a Dresden figurine before I could force him into sleep. He slept a while in the infirmary, but then he woke up and proceeded to raise merry hell all over again. The cook nearly turned in her notice after he unleashed havoc in the kitchen and he got me _in the face_ with a frying pan when I went to stop him." He stopped and gave me a long look. "How have you been able to stand him for a master these past few years?"

"I reminded myself to be patient," I said, my throat giving a creaky chuckle. "It's easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar, you know."

He glared at me. "The absolute last thing that child needs is sugar, let me assure you."

"So is he asleep again?" I asked.

Augustus nodded. "Right now, he's in the best place for sleeping in the whole house, aside from here."

"The infirmary?" Having slept there myself, I knew that it was always quiet.

"No, he's in the place where we put the wild children when they need to calm down," he said, glancing at me. "He's been put to bed in the chapel."

The chapel had been one room that I'd not been allowed into unaccompanied. I'd been in there only once and I had not liked it. The very air seemed to press against one and it had been more than a little difficult for me to breathe. The silence in that place never allowed you to speak above a whisper and you always felt…watched… What must that place be like for the young master?

"You needn't worry about him; he's perfectly safe there," Augustus assured me. "He'll sleep well and feel much better when he wakes up; I promise."

I doubted that. If anything, he would be even angrier. Augustus would think legions had descended upon him once the young master was awake.

I fell asleep again after that. For the longest while, I slept, woke, was fed, was dressed in clean garments, and tucked back into bed. Gradually, the cave changed. More candles appeared, this time in candelabra and candlesticks. Carpets appeared on the floor. My bed became a proper bed with a frame, mattress, sheets, and comforter. There were large cushions to sit on and a low table where one could take a leisurely meal. In time, but became very home-like, indeed. Despite the changes, it was very, very easy to lose track of time. All the time I spent was spent toward a purpose, however. I could see the door entrance to the cave from my bed, and there was no door to block my way. Once I regained my strength, nothing could keep me in that cave a moment longer than I wished. Gradually, my strength returned and I took my first few, stumbling steps around the cave. Whenever Augustus was not there, I practiced. I pushed myself, and it wasn't long before I could walk normally. Running would be another matter entirely, but first, I would have to gather information, and that meant sneaking up to the house.

I took my courage in hand one day when I knew Augustus wasn't returning. I had no idea how long I'd been down there, and I had to find out what had happened to the young master. I made my way to the door and I put a foot across the threshold…

I came awake when water was dribbled onto my face. "Sebastian?"

My eyes creaked their way open. "What happened?" I croaked, the pain making it difficult to speak.

"You were foolish," Augustus said darkly. "Did you think it would be so easy to leave this cave? I don't intend to let you escape that easily, my Sebastian."

This time, when unconsciousness came for me, I welcomed it with open and thankful arms.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Ciel's POV:

I woke to candlelight and an almost deafening silence. I was warm, comfortable, and prone in bed. As always, upon waking, it took me a moment to remember where I was and how I'd ended up there. Ah, yes. I was in the chapel.

I was ashamed of my past behavior, but I wasn't about to admit it to anyone. I'd behaved like a spoiled child when I was told that I would not see Sebastian again. I didn't know what made me behave that way, but rage was a large part of it, I think. That, and wishing to make my captors as unhappy as I could. All of them called me 'child,' so why not act the part?

I think I shocked more than one person by suddenly going off the handle like I did. More than one person wondered if I'd been struck mad, but that elemental knew better. Before he got to me and made me lose consciousness, I'd managed to hit him with a mantel clock, a Dresden figurine, and clobber him with a cast iron frying pan. (Doing so had been enormously satisfying, I must say.)

The first time I woke in the chapel, I was surprised at my surroundings and then began to feel nervous. I remembered some of the other children talking about it and deciding that the chapel was a place I wanted to avoid, yet, here I was. Wonderful.

My bed, a large four-poster affair, was behind the rood screen and tucked into the left transept. The altar and chancel were behind me. Despite the candelabra and the host of lighted candles, the light was dim. The quiet was overwhelming. Without thinking, I jumped from bed and ran down the nave, heading for the door, but something stopped me before I'd gone halfway.

A whisper.

"Who's there?" I demanded, whirling around. "Show yourself!"

Silence.

I turned and kept running, but more whispers stopped me in my tracks. "Where are you?!" I shouted, feeling angry. I could _hear _them, but why on earth couldn't I _see_ them? My mind suddenly turned to ghost stories that I'd heard and I fought down a shudder. No. No, no, _no_! I was _not_ going to start believing in children's nonsense like ghosts!

I couldn't help thinking of them, though, as the whispering grew louder. The sounds of voices began to dart all over the room as I forced myself down the nave and yanked on the door. A second later I was pounding on it with my fists.

"Let me out of here!" I shouted, beating at the door. "Let me out!"

A sudden brush against my face made me jump back. Another brush made me jump back even more. I couldn't see what was touching me, but I could feel it. It felt like cobwebs…or gauze…It wasn't long before the stuff was brushing against me all up and down my body. My skin was crawling and I'd begun to shiver before I managed to get my feet turned around and running back the way I'd come. I launched myself back into the bed and, although it shames me to admit it, I hid under the covers.

I needn't have bothered with hiding, though. Once I was in bed, the whispering stopped and the creepy-crawly feeling was gone. I was relieved, and more than a little frightened. What had that been? Why couldn't I see it? Was that going to happen to me every time I got out of bed?

For the next few hours, the only times I got out of bed was when I had to use the chamber pot that I'd found tucked on the far side of the rood screen. Fortunately, those unseen presences did not bother me on what I thought of as "my" side of the rood screen. Whenever I left the bed, I tried to learn as much about my prison as I could, but it was difficult. I looked everywhere I could, but the light was dim and I was unable to see much. What I could see, though, was furniture. The area behind the rood screen had been set up as a bedroom, and there was the bed, the chamber pot, a table, and a chair. That was all. In the main part of the chapel there was a large open space where the congregation would stand. The rest of the chapel was largely covered in ancient murals and triptychs showing scenes from the Bible.

The quiet in that place was enough in itself to drive you insane. Every sound was muffled, even the ones I made, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't speak for very long. I tried calling for someone, shouting and screaming, but after a while, the quiet got to me. The echoes of my own voice were frightening, so I stayed quiet. The dim light was just as bad as the quiet. Every time I thought I saw a shadow move, my eyes would snap to it, but there was never anything there. I took to watching the candelabra and candles to orient myself as to time and place, but each time I looked at an arrangement of candles or one of the candelabra they looked different. The candles were different lengths from what they seemed the time I observed them before, the clusters of candles differed in number, and so on.

I prayed that I was not going mad.

Several eternities later, I heard footsteps. That frightened me even more than the whispers, the changing candles, and the quiet. Did I now have a ghost here with me? Was such nonsense true after all?

"Ciel?"

Hearing a real, true voice startled me more than anything else in this place did. Even the fact that it was one I loathed didn't bother me. It was someone I knew. "Mr. Caldwell?"

He stepped to my side of the rood screen. "Hello, Ciel. How are you?"

Inexplicably, I was shaking. "I don't like this place."

"The chapel? Isn't it peaceful?" he wanted to know.

I shook my head. "I can hear things here. Plus, things move. It's too dark."

"Nothing here would hurt you."

I shuddered. So there _was _something in there with me! "What's here?"

"Servants of mine," Augustus answered. "Souls who have yet to find their way to where they belong. They obey me whenever I ask them to do something, and in return, they have protection against those who would consume them."

"Souls?" My voice shook. "You mean…ghosts?" I couldn't believe it. I fought not to dissolve into hysterics. They'd been there, _watching _me the whole time…

Mr. Caldwell sat down on the side of my bed. "Let me see your arm," he said, holding out his hands. "They tell me you were yanking at the door and banging on it. I want to be sure you didn't damage your arm."

I let him look at my arm and the whole time I was fighting to keep calm. I was in a place infested with ghosts, _dead people_, who had been whispering and touching me and…

"Ciel, it's all right," Mr. Caldwell said, shifting me to his lap.

"I'm not a child," I said, clutching the lapels of his coat once my arm was free.

He shook his head. "But you are. You are only a few years over a decade old. For most demons or elementals, that's hardly older than a baby. All children need to be protected. I will do all I can to protect you."

A brush against my shoulder nearly drove me through his chest. "Send them away!" He could spout all the reassurances he wanted, but I had no time for them. Not when there were dead people floating around us and listening to every word…Why on earth did I find these things so frightening when I had a demon for a butler?

"There's nothing to be afraid of," he reassured me. "I regard them as friends by now. They'll do anything I ask, you know. How would you like to see the candles dance?"

Before I could tell him that no, that wasn't necessary, the flames suddenly lifted from their candles and rose into the air, dancing around each other and weaving in and out. I had once seen an illusion by a magician who had called out the "fairies" and made them dance. Seeing those multicolored lights bobbing about on stage had enchanted me as a child, and now, I was seeing something very similar and just as enchanting. They grew, shrunk, changed their shapes, and danced about, darting between the columns of the chapel, in and out of the rood screen, and around the transept. One shot under my bed and came up the other side, stopping in front of my face to allow me to see its shape: a tiny butterfly. It wasn't long before most of them were around me, dancing where I could see them best. I saw birds, butterflies, dragonflies, bumblebees, and even pixies flying around the transept. "They're beautiful," I breathed, thoroughly enchanted by this point.

"Listen," Mr. Caldwell whispered.

I could hear them then, tiny voices singing in unison, singing the same words over and over again. I couldn't understand them or begin to try saying such words myself, but I found the song comforting.

"You see?" Mr. Caldwell whispered. "Nothing bad will happen to you here. I promise you, Ciel. I will protect you. I will keep you safe. You've had the responsibilities of an adult for a long time, Ciel. It's time for you to be yourself, and not an adult. Do you understand?"

Suddenly, I was too tired to think about what he was saying. I simply leaned against him and nodded.

"Good," Mr. Caldwell said, placing me back into bed. "It's time for you to go back to sleep, Ciel. When you wake up, you'll feel much better. I'll stay until you're asleep."

I was more than happy to lay back and let the pillows cradle me. He covered me with the comforter and sat on the side of the bed, stroking my hair. While he was doing that, the candle flames continued dancing about the chapel and the spirits…souls…or whatever they were kept singing. When my eyes finally closed I dreamed about those lights and that song. I dreamed about dancing fairies made of flame who sang about peace and tranquility and being happy. Then, I slipped into a place beyond dreams and for some reason, I didn't mind going.

I didn't know how long I spent in the chapel, going to sleep, waking up, and then going back to sleep. Occasionally I would wake up and Mr. Caldwell would be there, usually with something for me to eat or drink. It got so that I enjoyed sleeping more than being awake, since sleeping felt so nice and was so peaceful. I didn't have to worry about anything when I was asleep. There was no Queen, no Queen's Guard Dog, no memories that wouldn't stop hurting. No, there was just me and peace all around me. I'd forgotten what it felt like to feel so safe.

One night, though, things changed. I fell asleep soon after having some soup and instead of peace waiting for me in sleep, there was a sense of urgency. It was as if my subconscious mind had something to show me, and it would not take no for an answer. I fell deeper and deeper into my own mind until I was in a place that was no place. Thinking back on it later, I could say that it was most likely someplace in memory. I could see my parents and Aunt Ann, Lizzie, Tanaka, my dog Sebastian…and then, later, I could see Bard, Finny, and Mey-Rin, and last of all, my butler Sebastian. I'd been seeing them all at the Phantomhive manor, but the scene shifted, and I could see nothing but Sebastian…Sebastian, who was somewhere dark and lonely. Sebastian, who never showed emotions, was crying.

Sebastian's POV:

I'd known that seeing nothing but my underground prison would depress me, but I wasn't prepared for how fast it was happening. Over however long it was, my feelings grew bleaker. It couldn't have been more than a week before I was so depressed that I couldn't stand it. I tried to rally myself, reminding myself that the situation I was in now would not last forever, but it was scant comfort and did little to lift my mood.

It wasn't so bad when Augustus came to see me. He would arrive with something for me to eat, usually specially-prepared human foods that would nourish a demon, or he would feed me from his arm. Despite the fact that I didn't want to be troubled with eating, meals did pass the time. Augustus was also talkative, which distracted me more than eating did. He chattered when he was with me, telling me about what the children and his daughter were up to, what the other adults up above were doing, and what the weather was like. If I'd been up above, such conversation would have been inane in the extreme, but down in that cave, it was enthralling. I was thirsty for every detail he could give me. Whenever I could, I asked questions about everything I could think of. I wasn't satisfied with answers like "fine" or "doing well." No, I needed details. I kept him talking as much as possible and more than once I could tell that he lost track of time when we talked.

When Augustus went back up above, things quickly became bleak again. I was used to living within my own mind quite a bit since demons rarely shared their thoughts with others. That was how we were. It bothered me that my own mind was not enough anymore. I could feel despair setting in and pressing around me and I knew that unless things changed soon, I would soon be unable to do anything but give in to my dark moods. A demon trapped in his darker thoughts became something little better than an animal, and that would not do for a Phantomhive butler at all. To distract myself from my darker moods and to save my own mind, I tried focusing on my pleasanter memories. I reminded myself of beautiful places I'd been, people both demon and human I'd known, and things I'd enjoyed. I told myself stories, repeated poems, and sang songs. I didn't sing often since the sound of my voice echoed in the cave and made me aware just how alone I was down there.

I did not like the fact that I was lonely. For centuries, I'd spent the majority of my time alone and it hadn't bothered me, but now, I wanted to be with others. It was incredible. Why did such a thing matter now?

When I could not distract myself from my loneliness and depression, I slept. Augustus actually helped me with this since usually after I ate, he insisted that I go to sleep. In sleep, I could dream. Few humans ever learned that, at times, demons could control what they dreamed. I chose the pleasantest thing I could think of to dream about. Once for an entire week I dreamed about nothing but cooking. I prepared feasts in the familiar manor kitchen, with Bard, Finny, and Mey-Rin watching me. (If ego had mattered to me, I might admit that having them watch me cook could boost my ego.) I went through countless dishes: roast chicken, duck a l'orange, roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, pork pot au feu, mushroom risotto…there was nothing I did not make in my dreams. And the sweets! I couldn't forget my master's beloved sweets…mille-feuille, summer pudding, peach and cream parfait, petit fours, crème brulee, and of course, his favorite chocolate cake.

Another week, no matter how silly it was, I dreamed about housework. I dreamed about dusting, sweeping, washing, scrubbing, doing laundry, making beds, beating carpets, mending clothes, polishing silver and countless other chores. One night, I dreamed about nothing but tending the gardens and arranging flowers. In my dream, I was busy with a vase of flowers for the master's study and I was absorbed in arranging the blooms just right…

"They're exquisite, Sebastian."

I whirled and saw the last person I'd ever expected to see in my dreams. "Marcellus?"

He smiled. "Hello, grandson."

The smile and kind, loving voice did it. In a flash, I was across the room and in his arms, sobbing like a child.

"Now, now, it will be all right," he said, his hand massaging the back of my neck. "I promise."

"How are you in my dream?" I cried, holding onto him the same way a drowning man would grasp a rope.

"A trick that we older demons can do sometimes. What happened, Sebastian? Why are you in such a state?"

I told him everything that had happened since he'd left. He listened patiently and did not hurry me at any point. A few times he stopped me to ask a question, but mostly, he listened. By the time I was done talking I felt like an old, wrung-out rag.

"The situation is not hopeless, grandson," he told me, holding me much the same way Augustus did. It was odd, but I didn't mind Marcellus holding me. "You may be alone during much of your waking hours, but in your dreams, I can give you company."

"You can come into my dreams more than once?" I guessed.

He smiled. "Yes. I can come as often as you like, every night if you wish. I can even make it possible for you to talk to your master again."

I stared at him. "You can?"

He smiled. "Yes."

Suddenly, that was all I wanted. "When? How?"

"Tonight," he told me. "As for how, you'll see."

Ciel's POV:

I left the chapel after spending a week there. At least, that was what Mr. Caldwell told me. For some reason I couldn't name, it felt a great deal longer, but I wasn't going to argue about it. I left the chapel and went back to the room I had shared with the other boys. During the day I attended classes with the other children, saw to the chores I was assigned, and played outside or in the nursery during playtime. I spent time with Cecilia and more than once I got to have tea with her and Mr. Caldwell. Whenever I found myself worrying about Sebastian, the thoughts somehow just slipped away from me. I knew that I had to do something about Sebastian, but my mind could never remember what it was.

My sleep at night was restful if I didn't dream about my life before. If I dreamed about Sebastian, well, then it wasn't a good night. I couldn't say why, but dreams about him bothered me more than anything else. One night, I dreamed that I was in the Phantomhive manor, and I could hear footsteps coming toward me. I looked up, fully expecting to see Sebastian, but instead, I got a bit of a shock.

"Hello, Ciel," Marcellus said, standing next to my chair.

"M-M-Marcellus?" I stammered, vastly confused. "What are you doing here? Aren't I dreaming?"

He smiled. "You are dreaming. However, I came to see you."

Oddly, I found myself smiling. "It's good to see you. Where have you been?"

"Out hunting, but I decided to check on you and Sebastian after I sensed a few disquieting things happening to him. He wants to talk with you. Would you like to see him?"

I was out of my chair and looking around for him. "Where is he?"

Marcellus pointed. "There."

Slowly, like watching a picture form on rippling water, Sebastian appeared. I threw myself at him. "Sebastian!"

His arms enfolded me and held me close. "Young master. It is so good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," I said, my voice muffled by his waistcoat.

"I won't be able to hold the three of us here long, so be quick," Marcellus said.

Sebastian glanced up at Marcellus. "Any chance of Augustus finding us out?"

"I've never heard of an elemental breaching a demon's dreams before, but then again, there's a first time for everything."

"Sebastian, where are you? I would feel better about everything if I knew where you were," I said, still holding onto him.

"There's a cave under the house," he explained. "The entrance is through the wine cellar. I doubt anyone but Augustus knows it's there."

"Is it safe for me to come see you?"

He shivered. "No, young master. You must not."

I nodded. "We have to get out of here, Sebastian."

"I know."

"We'll have to continue this another night," Marcellus said, breaking in on us. "My energy is going faster than I realized. Say goodnight for now."

Neither of us had to say anything. Sebastian hugged me, I hugged him back, and then they both faded. I didn't see or hear anything else until I woke, but for the first time in a long while, I felt hope.


End file.
